


Raven

by Frodo_sHeart



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Awkward Thorin, Beauty and the Beast variety, First Kiss, M/M, Protective Thorin, Romance, Slow Build, fairytale AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-25
Updated: 2014-05-29
Packaged: 2018-01-26 09:22:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 24,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1683269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frodo_sHeart/pseuds/Frodo_sHeart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo Baggins is a travelling healer who sets out to help the people in a small village in Rohan. An illness has stricken there, and the village is being harrassed by a flock of ravens. There are tales of a Spectre living near the Stair to Dunharrow.</p><p> </p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I took a fairytale I wrote a number of years ago in my own language and reworked it into a Bilbo/Thorin fanfic.
> 
> It is set in Middle-earth and you will encounter well-known characters, but it is an alternate universe, without Smaug or the Ring or the Company. And Thorin isn't actually Oakenshield. It is set a bit before the events of The Hobbit would happen, so both Thorin and Bilbo are a bit younger, but I have left this a bit vague. Travelling distances are also left vague, since I don’t know about those.
> 
> Comments are very welcome!

While the rain battered down upon him and his pony, Bilbo wondered why in Yavanna’s name he had followed the suggestion to seek out Upbourn. Surely he would have had more work opportunities if he had stayed in Edoras. But yet again he had succumbed to his urge to help people, and as soon as he had heard about the strange illness that had befallen the people of Upbourn and the nearby hamlet of Underharrow he knew he had to go that way. So he had stacked up on every herb, plant and root he had been able to find and set off into the valley. And he should have stopped in Upbourn really, but, stubborn as he was, he had decided to go on to Underharrow, since apparently there were more sick there. He should have heeded those dark clouds.

It was rare these days, that thoughts of the Shire crossed his mind, but they did now. Be it only a short pain, remembering soft, green hills and warm sunshine. He was used to much harsher landscapes now, after years of travelling through Middle-earth. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had met another Hobbit. Mostly Men these days, and the occasional Elf. Maybe he could visit Lorien one day, try to learn their healing secrets. He scoffed. As if they would be willing to share those with a scruffy Halfling like him.

Bilbo shivered in his thoroughly wet clothes. It could not be far now. It better not be, it was already dusk and he did not fancy being out here in the rain in the dark. A white light flashed through the rain, followed immediately by rolling thunder. Yes, thank you, just what he needed. He pushed his wet locks from his eyes again. He should have gotten a haircut, it was far too long now. Bilbo sighed again. 

After another ten minutes on the path, finally the outlines of a few small houses loomed through the rain. Bilbo went up to one of them and knocked on the door. He could see light through the cracks of the door, but nobody came. He knocked again, louder this time. When there was still no reaction, he pounded the door with both fists.

‘Hello! Please open up!’ he shouted. It was no use, if there were indeed people home, they were determined not to open. He turned and peered in the direction where Underharrow should be. Vaguely he saw more dark contours. More houses. He trotted towards them, hoping that at least one of them would be willing to let a traveller in.

It was the fourth house that finally got him a reaction. The door opened to a small crack and a voice said:

‘What do you want?’

Bilbo sent a quick thank-you prayer up to Yavanna.

‘I have come from Edoras,’ he said. ‘I seek shelter from the rain and a bed for the night.’

‘Mrs Braess up the road takes guests. But I doubt she will let you in at this late hour.’

‘But it’s getting dark!’ cried Bilbo. ‘And I’m soaked to the bone.’

‘Not my problem,’ said the voice and the crack started to close.

‘No, wait, please! Where is this mrs Braess?’

‘Just a few minutes up the road, third house on the left.’

‘Thank you,’ said Bilbo to the closed door. Grumbling he drew Myrtle’s rope to make her follow him.

The third house on the left was bigger than the houses he had seen so far, and it had a small roof over the front door. He stepped under it. Taking a deep breath he knocked rather loudly. It took a little while, but then the door opened. A huge man stood in front of him.

‘What do you want?’ he asked. Bilbo sighed again. If he had known how charming and friendly the people in these parts were, he would have come years earlier...

‘I was told that mrs Braess takes guests and I am in dire need of a roof over my head and a fire to dry by,’ he said, flashing his friendliest smile at the man, though the effect was likely a lot less with the water dripping all over his face. The man looked him over.

‘What are you?’ he said then. ‘A child?’

‘I am a Hobbit, a Halfling,’ Bilbo said. He lifted his hairy foot to show to the man.

‘Never heard of those.’

‘Well, we live rather far to the North-West. Look, can I please come in? I can pay.’

The man hummed. He looked Bilbo over again, then his eyes fell on Myrtle.

‘A pony as well,’ he remarked. 

‘Indeed,’ said Bilbo, trying to be patient.

‘One moment,’ the man said, and he closed the door. 

‘Oh, for goodness sake,’ muttered Bilbo to himself. 

After few minutes the door opened again. 

‘You can come in after you put your pony in the stables,’ the man said.

Thirty minutes later Bilbo was sitting in front of a small fire wrapped in a large towel. He had housed Myrtle in the stables, dried her as well as he could and taken his bags inside. The large man, Eajur, had shown him to a small room on the ground floor and after demanding he pay up front, had left him alone. Stripping from his clothes had been a matter of minutes and infinitely thankful for the Man-sized towel provided, Bilbo was now trying to stop his teeth from clattering.

There was a knock on the door.

‘Come in!’

The large man came in, carrying a tray.

‘The missus thought you might like something warm and something to eat,’ he said, sounding a little friendlier now. The tray held a large mug of tea and a plate with bread and cheese.

‘Oh, cheers,’ Bilbo said. ‘That is very kind of her. Here, let me pay you.’

‘No need for that now,’ Eajur said. ‘The missus will speak to you tomorrow.’

‘Thank you,’ said Bilbo. The man lingered in the room, looking at the shivering Hobbit curiously.

‘A Hobbit, eh?’ he said. ‘You must be new to these lands, or you would never have travelled so close to dark.’

Bilbo sipped on the hot tea, cradling the mug in his hands.

‘Well, it was a bit later than I planned,’ he said. ‘But I have travelled in the dark before.’

‘Not in these parts,’ the man said. ‘You’d do well to stay indoors well before dusk.’

Bilbo looked up at him.

‘And why is that? Are there wargs around? Or Orcs?’

‘Worse,’ the man said with a grave look on his face. ‘Ravens.’

‘Ravens,’ said Bilbo. He quirked an eyebrow. ‘Ravens are worse than Orcs?’

‘These are.’ The man looked around, stepped closer to the Hobbit and leaned in. ‘They’re evil.’

Bilbo managed to keep his face neutral.

‘Evil ravens?’

‘Oh yes. Haven’t you heard of the Cursed Ravens of Dunharrow?’

‘Can’t say I have. I have heard of the Paths of the Dead, but ...’

‘Nah, those are further up the mountain. And these ravens aren’t dead, no sir. They are very much alive. And dangerous. They attack people. After dark.’ He wriggled his eyebrows, sounding like he loved telling this story and scaring newcomers. 

Bilbo huffed.

‘I’ve never met a bird I didn’t get along with,’ he said. He had always had a special rapport with birds, though he had to admit he hadn’t met any ravens. Cursed ravens indeed!

Eajur laughed hoarsely.

‘Well, you better not try with these,’ he said. ‘You haven’t seen the people who tried. And that’s not all sir. Do you know how them ravens got cursed? It’s the Spectre of the Stair.’

‘A spectre? So the Dead are involved?’

‘We don’t believe this spectre is connected to the Paths of the Dead, sir,’ said Eajur, whispering ominously. ‘He appeared much later, only 10 years ago. And he is no soldier, if we can believe those who have seen him.’

‘He has been seen?’ In spite of himself, Bilbo was beginning to become intrigued. ‘What did he look like?’

‘Ah, he is just a black form, sir. We think he’s a wizard gone bad.’

‘A wizard? Come now, how could one of the Istari go bad?’ Bilbo had once met Radagast the Brown, a thoroughly decent person, though definitely mad. And although the stories about Gandalf the Grey and Saruman the White described them as wizards to be reckoned with, they were never bad. ‘Gandalf and Saruman are well-acquainted with the Queen of the Lothlorien Elves, how can someone like that be evil?’

‘There’s them blue fellers, isn’t it? Who knows where they are? Hm?’ Eajur tapped his nose with his finger. ‘And how do we know there aren’t any more of them around? And I’ll tell you something else. This sickness ...’ His voice dropped. ‘I bet it’s the wizard too. Mark my words.’ With that he turned around and left the room. Bilbo stared at the door, shrugged and grabbed a piece of bread.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It will take a few chapters before they meet. Patience! :-)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo meets a raven.

‘Don’t go too near the Stair, Master Baggins!’ 

Bilbo waved absently, eyes already focussed on the plants along the path. His stack of useful plants had dwindled quickly, what with all the people suffering from the unknown illness. Most patients seemed to recover after a while, but children and old people were at risk of dying. Also, many people became ill again after they had recovered. Half the town was ill and by the time they recovered the other half was ill. It seemed a cruel game. Bilbo was almost ready to believe the stories about a wizard.

‘Come along now, young Per.’ He gestured the boy, who was already considerably taller than the hobbit, to follow him. This was the first time he had left the village since he had arrived a week ago and they had insisted he take Per along so he wouldn’t get lost or stray too near the haunted Stair.

‘Now, you know what we are looking for, right?’ he said. Per nodded. He was a serious boy, about ten years of age.

‘I know where we might find it, sir,’ the boy said, looking at the hobbit. ‘It is a little while yet, but not too far. And it is not yet midday.’

Bilbo smiled at him.

‘I’m, sure we will be fine, Per,’ he said. The ravens and the Spectre of the Stair held the inhabitants of this valley in a tight grip, especially since the onset of the illness, several weeks ago. They were very preoccupied with being safely at home well before darkness.

The two of them walked in silence for some time.

‘It’s a good thing you came, Mr Baggins,’ said Per shyly. ‘Your remedies have helped us become better much sooner. My little sister was very ill when you arrived.’

Bilbo remembered the little girl. He had been very worried about her and had focussed all his attention on curing her. Thank Yavanna it hadn’t taken him long to find a combination of herbs that helped battle the diarrhea and vomiting. Still, it had been a close thing. But the little girl had recovered and it had given him a good name with the population. 

‘I am glad I am able to help,’ he said.

‘You must be a famous healer with your people,’ Per said, casting Bilbo a curious look. ‘Why did you travel so far?’

Bilbo’s face dropped. He didn’t like to be reminded of why he was travelling so far from where he had been born. Although the Shirelings had always appreciated his knowledge of herbs and roots, they had also considered him odd. They had accepted his special connection with birds at first, after all, they were a folk strongly connected with nature. But when more and more birds of all sorts began to flock around Hobbiton and Bag End, the looks he received were becoming worried and even accusatory. This had increased after his parents had suddenly died.

‘Sometimes you just don’t fit in,’ he said. And sometimes people try to force you to fit in, he thought, to the point of making you choose between a marriage, supposed to settle you down, or leave altogether. Well, he didn’t regret choosing the latter option. The hardest part had been to leave the beautiful smial to his uncle Longo, but he had gotten over that.

‘That way.’ Per pointed to a small path that lead into the woods. They walked in, Per taking the lead. 

‘This seems like the right sort environment,’ said Bilbo, starting to search the ground with his eyes. ‘I am sure...’ He was interrupted by a rustling sound and a scream from Per.  
The boy ran back, colliding with Bilbo.

‘Raven!’ he cried. He scrambled to his feet and began to run back the way they came. ‘Raven!’ 

Bilbo looked around. Sure enough a large raven had landed on a moss-covered rock not far ahead. Its head was cocked to one side as it seemed to study the Hobbit. Bilbo remained still, considering what to do. He kept his eyes on the bird. It was a particularly large one, though he wasn’t exactly sure how big ravens were supposed to be.  
He nearly jumped when he heard a rustling sound again and two more, smaller, ravens appeared, perching on the lower branches of a tree. All three of them were watching him intently, it gave him goosebumps.

‘Ah, hello lads,’ he said, trying to keep a tremor from his voice. Never before had he been weary of a bird. ‘I am looking for some plants that I really need. I hope you don’t mind.’

The large raven hopped forward on its rock. It stretched its head toward Bilbo and uttered a raw screech. It startled Bilbo. He stumbled backwards, falling on his bottom. The two ravens in the tree began cackling as if they were laughing with him. He threw them a stern look.

‘Now look here,’ he said, scrambling to his feet. ‘I have done nothing wrong and I would appreciate it if you didn’t make fun of me.’ He had put his hands on his hips and stared at the two smaller ravens. They stared back at him until the large raven made a softer, croaking call. Bilbo shifted his gaze to him, then quickly back to the tree when he heard the smaller ravens take off. They disappeared over the trees with a rising, gurgling croak. The large one remained.

Bilbo threw it another glance, then made up his mind.

‘I am going to find these plants,’ he said. ‘Because people are sick and they need it. I don’t want any more people to die.’ He stepped onto the path again. ‘I’ll be off then.’ He passed the rock with the raven on it, watching it from the corner of his eye. It did not make another sounds. But it did follow him, hopping on the ground or flying low for a few meters. Bilbo’s back prickled but he did not look back or stop looking for the plants he wanted. When he finally found them and started to collect them in his bag, the raven sat perched on a low branch, watching him.

‘I say,’ said Bilbo, standing up and stretching his aching back. ‘You wouldn’t happen to know why all these people are becoming ill, would you?’ The raven cocked its head as if it was listening. Bilbo suppressed a shiver. ‘It’s affecting all kinds of innocent people, you know. Old people, children, pregnant women.’ He looked at the raven, cocking his head like it did. ‘Maybe you could ask that spectre up at the Stair to stop whatever it’s doing? I mean, do the people of the village really deserve this?’ He felt rather silly talking to the raven as if he believed there was actually a spectre or wizard who was causing this.

The raven did not react in any way, it just stared at Bilbo as it had before. Finally Bilbo shrugged, slung his bag over his shoulder and started to walk back along the path. The raven did not follow him. When he looked back after some time, there was nothing to be seen but trees and plants. Bilbo sighed in relief. He had always considered all birds his friends, but he wasn’t so sure about these particular ravens.

Luckily he managed to find his way out of the woods and was on the path towards the village not long after. He found a steady rhythm, humming a travelling song he had made himself.

The Road goes ever on and on  
Down from the door where it began.  
Now far ahead the Road has gone...

He was interrupted by excited shouts up the road. Several people were running toward him. 

‘Mister Baggins! Are you alright?’

Panting, Eajur, Per and several other men stopped before him, looking him over to see if he was hurt in any way.

‘Yes, yes, I’m fine,’ Bilbo said.

‘But the raven ...’

‘Oh,’ Bilbo hesitated. It was probably not such a good idea to tell them what had actually happened. ‘It went away and I decided to gather the plants after all, I really need them.’

Eajur slapped him on the back, almost sending the hobbit to the ground.

‘You are either incredibly careless or too brave for your own good, master Hobbit!’ the large man exclaimed. ‘You come back to the village now, you hear, and don’t go off to them woods again.’

‘I may need more herbs later on,’ Bilbo began, but he was being ushered towards the village with the group of them.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stories, and more ravens.

Bilbo leaned back in his chair, quietly smoking his pipe while he listened to mrs Braess, Eajur and the two new visitors chatting at the table. Mrs Braess made a good dinner, almost up to hobbit standard. He grimaced. The one thing he still missed about the Shire: hobbit meals. Somehow no other race was able to cook like hobbits. Or maybe it was the ingredients.

‘I’m telling you, they are scary bastards,’ Eajur’s voice rang out. ‘Bigger than your average raven and totally evil.’

Ah, he was up to his favourite pastime: scaring newcomers with stories of the ravens and the spectre.

‘Mr Baggins here can testify to that, can’t you, sir?’ A face red from drinking a hefty amount of ale turned towards him. The two young men, messengers from Edoras sent to gather information about the illness, looked at the hobbit with slightly unsettled faces. Bilbo blew out another smoke ring.

‘You seen one, haven’t you? And young Per said it was a real big one.’

‘I guess it was,’ said Bilbo reluctantly.

‘Why, almost as big as you yourself, right?’

Bilbo huffed and sat up straight.

‘Well, that is exaggerated,’ he said indignantly. ‘I am a perfectly normal height for a hobbit and I am certainly taller than a raven!’

Eajur snickered.

‘No need to be offended, sir,’ he laughed. ‘Nobody here said anything about your height. But them ravens are big, right?’

Bilbo sighed.

‘Yes, yes, they are.’ He coughed. ‘I mean, that one was big. I think it came up to here.’ He held his hand quite high to his chest. The young men’s eyes widened.

‘And... and you didn’t run?’ one of them asked.

‘Ah, well, I think Per’s cries scared it off,’ Bilbo said, trying to sound sincere. ‘And I wanted those plants.’

Eajur turned to the visitors again. 

‘Mister Baggins here is a fool or a very brave man, well, hobbit,’ he said, grinning. ‘Everybody would have run. We know all to well about the dangers.’

‘Why? What do they do?’ the young man asked breathlessly.

‘Ah, well, it’s a long story. Ravens are quite rare in these parts. I think they are more common up north, in Rhovanion and beyond. It is said that the Dwarves of Erebor used them as messengers. Don’t know if they still do. Anyway, about ten years ago we began spotting them in our valley, near the stairs of Dunharrow. They were just there suddenly, at least a dozen of them. Not long after, people began seeing a dark figure shimmering about in the woods near the stairs.’ Eajur took a long swig from his tankard of ale.

‘At first nothing really happened, but one day a couple of hunters saw the Spectre and decided to pursue it. They hadn’t gone far before the whole group of ravens came soaring down and attacked the hunters. They barely made it out of the woods and back to Underharrow alive. After that the ravens began to scare off anybody who ventured near the Stair. Then anybody who entered the woods near there, and then they began to protect an even wider circle. A couple of years later hunters ran into some ravens and tried to shoot them. Since that time the ravens have been visiting the village after dark, attacking people and stealing things that are left outside.’

Bilbo frowned.

‘They steal things?’ he asked. ‘What things?’

‘Oh, lots of stuff. Smaller things obviously, or they couldn’t carry them. Although they even managed to haul off with warg furs and a sword.’

‘That is very strange,’ said Bilbo thoughtfully. ‘What do ravens want with furs, swords and other human things?’

‘For the Spectre of course,’ Eajur said, looking at Bilbo as if he was a bit slow in the head. ‘Anyway, we now know to keep our stuff indoors after dark. We take turns leaving food or trinkets outside to pacify them. They have occasionally destroyed roofs and other things when they didn’t find anything to their liking.’

Bilbo huffed.

‘So they are effectively holding the village hostage? Pay up or we destroy your things? That’s not evil, that’s just bullying.’

Eajur glared at him.

‘We do what we must to keep our people safe,’ he said. ‘And it’s not as if we don’t try to get rid of them. We have sent out parties to hunt them, but have been unsuccesful. And recently ...’ He stopped talking and buried his nose in his tankard.

‘What?’ asked one of the visitors.

‘Well, recently the mayor and his men have tried something new. They stuffed some fish and rabbits with poison and left them close to the woods.’

‘They tried to poison the ravens?’ asked Bilbo. He was surprised to find that he was horrified. He thought about the bird he had seen. It had seemed so intelligent. Yet, they were bullying the Men, who had every right to try and stop it. But still, it seemed wrong.  
‘Were they succesful?’

‘We don’t know,’ Eajur admitted. ‘The bait had gone the next day, but we never found a carcass. They put out bait two more times, but it didn’t get taken.’

It was quiet for a while, except from the crackling of the fire. Bilbo smoked in silence.

‘How long ago was this?’ he asked suddenly.

‘About five weeks ago I think.’

‘Just before the onset of this illness?’ 

Eajur nodded. 

‘I’m telling you, it’s a curse. The spectre has cursed us.’

‘Hm.’ Bilbo stared into the fire. 

0o0o0o0

‘Hello mister Baggins.’

Bilbo nodded at the woman who greeted him. People were always greeting him with a smile on their faces. He had made himself quite popular these past two weeks. His medications had helped to significantly shorten the duration of the illness and no one had died in eight days. At the moment there were only seven sick people left in the village hall that served as a healing hall and they were doing well. So Bilbo had decided to stroll around the village, since he hadn’t been able to do that until now. He would have to go find more herbs though. He had found a small patch of them at the other side of the village, along the way toward Upbourn, but he had depleted that patch. There was nothing for it, he would have to return to the woods near the Stair of Dunharrow. Only he would have to do it alone and without people knowing. He had mentioned it and they had made it quite clear that they would not allow him to go there again.

His feet had led him towards the river. Several women were doing the washing, while a little bit further upstream people were filling buckets and bottles and little children were running around laughing. He stood watching the scene for a while, enjoying the sun glittering in the water. Then he sighed, his mind made up. These people needed to be helped and he needed to find those plants. This was as good an opportunity as ever, since they knew he was walking around the village, so it would take them a while to figure out he had disappeared.

Leasurely he walked on, as if he was just taking a morning stroll. He slipped around the back of the last houses of the village and snuck out to the shrubbery that lined the path towards the the end of the valley. His lack of height was a definite advantage here. He had to duck a few times when he heard people nearby, but all in all it took him not long at all to leave the village behind him. He had set a brisk pace. 

He was worried that he wouldn’t recognize the path Per had led him to, but when he arrived there, he knew it instantly. With only a little hesitation he set out into the wooded area. He reached the place where he had found the plants last time without problems and began gathering them immediately, casting glances around him.

Suddenly the quiet was shattered by a loud screech not too far away. Bilbo froze. Then there were more screeches and shouting. Human shouting. The noise continued but seemed to be moving away from him. When all was silent again, Bilbo rose, heart beating loudly. He put everything into his bag, but kept his small knife in his hand. Moving as quietly as he could, he began to walk back. 

A rushing sound behind him made him jump. Bilbo swirled around, knife at the ready, to find the large raven sitting on the path. 

‘You... just stay away from me,’ he stammered, thrusting his hand with the pathetic knife in the direction of the bird. The raven didn’t flinch. It stayed where it was, fixing him with a glare. More rustling behind him and to his right made him turn around, waving the knife at four more ravens. They just sat there, looking at him. The large one made a soft screeching sound, almost like a question. Bilbo ducked his head when one of the smaller ravens suddenly took flight and sheared right over his head in the direction where he had first heard the screeching and shouting. It sat down on a branch. Then a second one did the same, but it touched down in a tree a little bit further away. When the third one did the same thing, yet further away, Bilbo understood. He cast a glance at the large raven. It cocked his head and made the same questioning sound.

Bilbo stared at the large bird. For the first time he allowed his bird sense, as he liked to call it, to reach out to the raven. He had never been sure what this bird sense was exactly, but it allowed him to make a connection to birds, it made them trust him and it helped him to understand them. He focussed on the large raven with a soft yet intense stare and tried to reach out to it. Suddenly the raven jerked its head back and made a small sound at the back of its throat. Bilbo was almost sure this indicated surprise. 

‘That’s right,’ he said softly. ‘I’m no threat to you, I just want to understand. You want me to go in that direction, don’t you?’ The raven cocked its head again. ‘Will it be dangerous for me?’ The raven stared at him for a moment, then took a step backwards, lowering its head.  
‘Thank you,’ said Bilbo. He took a deep breath and started to walk where the ravens were directing him.

It took him about fifteen minutes through dense trees and shrubbery, to reach a small clearing. There were at least ten other ravens there, all huddled together and making soft croaking sounds. The four that had lead his way joined their friends, calling out to them. Then suddenly the group parted in the middle and Bilbo saw a black form lying limply on the ground.

‘Oh dear,’ he said and rushed forward. It was, of course, a raven, and an arrow was stuk in its side, just under the left wing. Bilbo knelt down. First he checked to see if the animal was still alive. It was, it was even conscious.

‘Alright,’ he said to the raven, using his special bird voice. ‘If you want me to help you, you must allow me to touch you.’ He reached out and lightly stroked the feathers on the wing. The bird followed his movement with its eye, but did not protest in any way.

‘Good,’ Bilbo said. ‘Now I am going to touch your wing and hold it up.’ He did as he had said and looked at the arrow. The raven had been lucky. The arrow had entered at a shallow angle and had not entered deeply, it was almost parallel to the body. Still, the head could have done quite some damage. 

‘The arrow has to come out,’ said Bilbo. He studied the wound, touching it gently with his fingers. The bird flinched, but made no threatening moves. The arrowhead seemed to be quite close to the surface, it had almost come out the other end. Pulling it out the way it had come would make things worse. Bilbo put his bag on the ground and opened it. He took out his little knife and a small bottle of strong alcohol. Then he laid out cotton and bandages. 

‘Right,’ he said, looking the raven in the eye. ‘This will hurt, but it has to happen.’ He used the knife to cut the arrowshaft quite close to where it had entered the flesh. Then he cleaned the knife with the alcohol and put it right where the head sat under the skin. He made a quick incision. The bird jerked and screeched, but it remained where it was and did not try to attack Bilbo.

‘Well done,’ he said absentmindedly, concentrating on his work. ‘Ready?’ Without pause he pushed at the remainder of the shaft, pulling at the head as soon as it surfaced from the fresh cut he had made. In a swift movement he removed the arrow completely. Working quickly he soaked some cotton in alcohol, cleaning both the entry and exit wound. Then he pulled out one of his satchels with herbs. There was no water nearby, so he simply put the herbs in his mouth and chewed on them until they formed a paste he could apply to the wounds. With deft fingers he wound bandages around the bird and tied them.

‘There,’ he said, admiring his handywork. ‘That is all I can do for you now. We will have to hope it doesn’t get infected.’ He sat back on his heels, looking around. While he was working, more ravens had arrived. There must have been at least twenty of them. They were all sitting very quietly, eyes fixed on Bilbo and the wounded bird. He sought out the large raven, who was perched on a branch over him.

‘What now?’ Bilbo said. ‘He can’t fly, what will you do?’

The large raven looked at him for a long time. Then it seemed to make a decision. It opened its beak.

‘Bring,’ it croaked.

Bilbo almost fell over.  
‘You.. you can talk?’ he stuttered, eyes wide.

‘Bring,’ the raven said again. Then it screeched softly to the other ravens. Most of them rose in the air and took off. Three remained. They flew a little ahead as the other ravens had done before, and Bilbo understood they were showing him the way. He hesitated only a few moments. Then he gathered his things, slung his bag over his shoulder and picked up the wounded raven gently and carefully. 

‘Lead the way,’ he said.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things go bump in the night. Oh dear, what is Bilbo getting himself into?

It was a very strange experience, being led through the woods by the ravens. He did not allow himself to think too much, or he would have lost his nerve. They were taking him further into the woods and he was quite certain they were going in the direction of the Stairs. 

They walked for over an hour. It wasn’t always easy, having to find his way through shrubbery and over fallen trees, all the time carrying the wounded bird. At last the ravens made him stop just as he was about to enter what seemed to be a large clearing. Looking ahead, however, Bilbo found he had reached the bottom of the Stair of the Hold. Despite himself he gasped at the sight of the winding path leading up to Dunharrow, his eyes quickly looking around for any sign of a spectre or wizard. Then he scoffed at himself and focused his attention at the large raven. 

‘Leave,’ it croaked.

‘Leave? I have to leave? But...’

‘Leave,’ the raven said again, pecking on the ground with its large beak.

‘Oh, you mean leave your comrade. Of course.’ Bilbo lowered his charge, putting the bird on the ground carefully. Then he opened his bag. He took some herbs, put them in a spare pouch, added some bandages and cotton, and left it next to the wounded raven. The large raven was eyeing him with apparent interest.

‘I have no idea if you really have someone here, spectre or otherwise,’ Bilbo said, closing his bag. ‘But in case you do, I have left some materials so his wound can be redressed a few times. I hope it will be enough.’ Bilbo and the raven stared at each other for a long moment. 

‘Well, I’ll be off then,’ he said finally. When he looked around however, he realised he had no idea how to find his way back. A shiver of fear crept up his spine. What if they just left him here, what if the spectre was coming down, what if...

‘Go,’ the large raven croaked. Two smaller ravens flew up, and indicated Bilbo to follow them. With a sigh of relief, he went after them, casting a glance backwards when he entered the woods again. The large raven was still sitting on the grass, looking at the hobbit.

The ravens lead him to a path and abandoned him there. It was easy enough to follow the path, which then led to the path along the river, leading back to the village. Bilbo made some haste, seeing as he would have been missed by now and he hoped to avoid awkward questions. He was out of luck however, when he found three Men sitting next to the path. One of them seemed to be injured.

‘Mister Baggins!’ they exclaimed. ‘Whatever are you doing here?’ 

He said that he had been gathering herbs, but they waved his explanations away as they hurried him to the wounded man. He was covered in bloody cuts and scrapes.

‘What happened?’ asked Bilbo, kneeling down and opening his bag to help the man. He knew very well what had happened.

‘The ravens attacked us,’ said one of the Men. ‘We got one of them though. Imagine stumbling on them there. Although...’ He looked at Bilbo. ‘I think this was not far from the place where young Per took you for those plants. You did see a raven then, didn’t you?’

‘Yes, yes we did. A large one,’ said Bilbo. He decided he had better make a believable story. ‘So that is what I heard.’ He faked a shiver. ‘I heard terrible sounds and I hid in a large hole I found. Sat there for ages before I dared move again.’

The man scowled at him.

‘Why did you go back there in the first place? You knew of the dangers.’

‘Yes, ah, I really need those plants, you see. Or I can’t help people anymore.’ He shrugged and looked at the man apologetically. ‘We better go back to the village now.’

The men continued to give him looks, but they walked back together and didn’t speak of it anymore. In the village of course Bilbo was properly chastised for taking such risks and he had to promise not to do something like that again. He promised in vague terms.

The third night after the happenings near the Stair of the Hold Bilbo was lying in his bed, when he heard a strange sound. He sat up straight, heart beating fast. Someone was tampering with the latches of his window. For a moment he stared into the darkness, then he threw off his blankets and got out of bed. Quietly he walked over to the window and peeked around the curtain. By the light of a small moon, he saw the unmistakable shape of a raven sitting on the sill, pecking at the lock. 

Holding his breath, Bilbo slid the curtains open. The raven stopped pecking and looked at him with one eye, head cocked. Just as Bilbo was contemplating opening the window, he saw a dark shape standing at the fence. He gasped at the sight. With trembling hands he reached for the latch, when he heard shouts. A light flickered from the windows of the floor above him and more lights went on in the next house. Suddenly he saw the dark shape stagger backwards once, twice. It turned around, almost fell over when a third jolt went through it and it stumbled into the darkness. The raven on the windowsill took off with a raw screech.

Heart beating in his throat, Bilbo closed the curtains again. He leaned against the wall, trying to catch his breath. That had been no raven, there actually was a spectre. And he had almost decided to go out and meet it.  
The sound of feet running down the stairs, a loud knock on his door not a moment later.

‘Are you alright, mister Bilbo?’ asked Eajur’s voice. 

‘Yes, yes I am.’ Bilbo opened the door to Eajur’s large frame clad in a long grey nightgown. ‘What is it?’

‘Someone was at the fence, sir, and one of them cursed ravens was on your windowsill.’

‘Good heavens,’ cried Bilbo, putting on an act. ‘But who could be out there at night?’

‘Who indeed, sir. But don’t you worry, I got him. Shot him at least thrice I did. We will find him in the morning, you can be sure of that. Better sleep now sir, you are safe.’

‘Th-thank you,’ said Bilbo, shivering, but not for the reason Eajur assumed.

0o0o0o0o0

The next morning Bilbo was up very early. Not early enough though, as it turned out, since he found Eajur and several other men already conferring at the fence where the apparition had been. 

‘Blood!’ said one of the men with a satisfied nod to Bilbo. ‘Eajur got the bastard. We are just about to follow the trail, sir.’

‘I will come with you,’ Bilbo said. He had brought his bag with him.

‘Not sure that’s wise, sir,’ said Eajur with a frown.

‘That raven was on my windowsill, Eajur,’ Bilbo said. ‘I want to know what’s behind this all as much as you do. Besides, I will be quite safe with the group of you.’

Grudginly they allowed him to come along as they set out, following the trail of blood. It led them straight out of the village unto the path toward the end of the valley. When they neared the place where Per had lead Bilbo into the woods for the first time, the men became more cautious. 

‘This is near where they attacked the hunters the other day,’ said one of them quietly. ‘We have to be very careful. If all of them come after us, it could be very dangerous.’

‘How many are there?’ Bilbo asked. He remembered that Eajur had said there had been a dozen at first, but he had seen at least twice as many with the injured bird.

‘We think at least thirty now,’ answered Eajur. ‘Probably more, maybe even fifty. They have been here for over ten years. The flock has grown.’

Suddenly they froze. A rustling sound was heard in the distance, like a great gust of wind. It became louder and louder. The searched the sky.

‘There!’ shouted one of the men. He pointed to the East. A black cloud swirled in their direction. No sound was heard except the rustling of wings. The men looked at each other, then, without a word, they ran to the edge of the woods and began to run back to the village under cover of the trees. 

Bilbo was watching the great cloud of ravens so intensely that he noticed too late where the men had gone. When he started to run for cover too, he had been separated from the group. The flock descended upon the men ahead of him. They could not attack as a group, but inividual birds flew into the woods and attacked the men. Bilbo heard cries and shouting. He realised that he himself was not being attacked and stopped running, hiding behind a tree. The cries were fading in the distance. It was very eerie that the ravens had not made a sound during their flight and attack. Just when he sighed deeply, a throaty croak sounded behind him. He almost jumped out of his skin. Panting he turned around, not suprised to find the large raven staring at him.

‘Come,’ it said. 

Bilbo put his hand over his heart.

‘You scared me to death,’ he said accusingly. 

‘Come,’ the bird repeated. Bilbo glared at it.

‘Why?’ he asked. ‘Your spectre came to haunt the house last night, I’m not at all sure I want to meet it.’ 

The raven leered at him with one eye and cackled softly. Bilbo scowled at him. The dratted bird seemed to know he was lying. He was actually very curious to meet this elusive spectre, and to see how the injured raven was doing. 

‘I must be quite mad,’ he muttered to himself. ‘Alright, I will come with you. Lead the way.’

The raven looked at him sternly.

‘Carc,’ it said. 

‘What?’

‘Carc.’

When Bilbo looked at it with a blank expression, it cackled again.

‘Baggins. Carc.’ It said.

Bilbo staggered backwards. Did the raven just tell him its name? And how on Arda did it know the hobbit’s name?

‘Come, Baggins,’ croaked the raven again. ‘Follow Carc.’

Bilbo was no longer sure this was really happening, but he followed the raven, having a very good idea of where the journey would bring him. And very much doubting his sanity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Carc is the name of Roäc’s father. I have no idea how long these ravens live, but since this is an AU anyway, with no Smaug and no Ring, I’m putting Carc in this timeframe.
> 
> PS The story is all but finished, hence the quick posting, I plan to post all of it within a few days.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo meets a spectre.

Bilbo looked up at the rocky path they called the Stair. Carc wanted him to climb it.

‘All the way up?’

‘I will show you,’ the raven said. For the tenth time Bilbo wondered if he had lost his mind. Then, with a resigned sigh, he started to go up. About a quarter of the way, Carc led him around a large rock to the side, through a narrow chasm and then into a dim cave. Bilbo halted to let his eyes adjust. He was in an empty little chamber. He turned to Carc.

‘In the back,’ said the raven. Carefully Bilbo walked to the far end of the cave, wishing he had a torch. Carc showed him around wat turned out to be a natural wall shielding an opening. To Bilbo’s utter surprise a soft gleam came from a narrow pathway behind it. It led into a much bigger cave. He stood and took in the sight before him with huge eyes.

To one side there was a fire lit in a hollow that looked like a natural hearth. Indeed, since the cave wasn’t filled with smoke, there must be some sort of chimney. In addition to the fire there were several candles. Close to the fire stood a crude wooden table and stool. Against the walls Bilbo saw several other tables and boxes. They were filled with all kinds of small objects that he couldn’t make out.

Bilbo walked toward the fire, taking in his surroundings. He didn’t see anyone. Maybe the spectre was out for the day, he thought. Then he noticed a bundle lying on the floor next to the fireplace and he halted. The bundle did not move or make a sound.

Tentatively Bilbo approached the bundle, ready to fly or fight if necessary. Nothing happened though. When he stood next to the shapeless heap on the floor, he saw that it seemed to be a body wrapped in blankets and furs. He couldn’t make out what was under the covers, but it seemed unlikely that a spectre would need blankets. Just as a spectre would not be hurt by arrows or lose blood.

Bilbo knelt down, reached out and after a moment’s consideration began to unwrap the covers. The bundle suddenly stirred, startling the hobbit. Carc, who had set himself down nearby uttered a soft croak. A sound resembling both a groan and a croak came from the bundle. Bilbo looked down in surprise. Was this another raven? Surely not, it seemed much too big, bigger than Bilbo himself. When the bundle was quiet again, he resumed his unwrapping. A dark shape began to reveal itself, the firelight casting a blue-black sheen on it. Were those feathers?

Carefully Bilbo removed another layer and froze, his breath caught in his throat. What in Eru’s name was this creature? He saw feathers, but the face was round and the closed eyes were set next to each other like his own were. A sturdy neck lead to broad shoulders, equally covered in feathers. Bilbo looked at the face again, trying to see its features, but the light was too low. He got up to fetch a few candles.

When he returned and brought the candles near, he gasped. Two startlingly blue eyes looked up at him, beneath which he saw a strange feature that seemed to be a nose and yet it resembled a beak too. The eyes blinked, the beak moved and an unintelligible croaking sound came from it. Looking into those eyes, however, Bilbo found he could not be scared.

‘Let me help you,’ he said softly, removing yet another layer. Suddenly a bony hand with long white fingers grabbed his wrist. The eyes narrowed and the creature uttered another croak.

‘Baggins,’ said Carc suddenly. ‘Healer.’

The creature stared into Bilbo’s eyes for a moment longer, then it let his wrist go with a sigh. Bilbo pushed down the last blanket covering the creature’s body.

‘Oh my,’ he said. The being was completely covered in black feathers, but they were smeared with blood. He took one of the candles and held it near, to see if he could determine where the wounds were. The pale hand moved again and now he saw that it was attached to a wing that started at the right shoulder. It pointed at the left shoulder, a spot just below the ribs on the left side and finally just above the right hip.

‘Oh dear, oh dear,’ murmured Bilbo, studying the wounds. ‘They really got you, didn’t they?’ He looked the being in the eyes. It stared back without discernable expression. ‘And you pulled out the arrows without thinking about it, right? Not the best course of action, I have to say.’ The raven-like being made a huffing sound. Bilbo couldn’t help chuckling. 

‘Right,’ he said. ‘Anyway, like Carc said, I am Baggins, Bilbo Baggins, healer. And I will try to help you.’

‘Bag-gins,’ croaked the being. 

‘That’s right,’ smiled Bilbo. ‘But you may call me Bilbo. What’s your name then?’ 

The creature looked at him for a while, before it spoke again.

‘Tho-rin,’ he said with difficulty.

 

0o0o0o0o0

 

Thorin turned out to have three rather nasty wounds. Bilbo managed to clean the black feathers with the water Carc showed him in a shallow basin just outside the cave. He cleaned the wounds with alcohol and bandaged everything. He settled Thorin back in the furs and blankets. Just as he was turning away, the being spoke.

‘What are you?’ aske Thorin slowly, croaking as if he hadn’t used his voice for some time. 

‘I’m a hobbit from the Shire,’ Bilbo said. ‘Though I haven’t been there in a long time.’ He hesitated for a moment, studying Thorin’s head, which was the only thing visible in his pile of blankets and furs. He decided not to return the question.

‘Do you have any food around?’ he asked instead. ‘I haven’t exactly had second breakfast, elevenses or lunch yet and I’ve been on my feet for quite a while.’ He saw the blue eyes rest on his hairy feet for a moment. He grinned, holding one foot up. ‘Hobbit feet,’ he said. ‘No shoes.’ Thorin’s face did not show any emotion. Bilbo wondered if he could even express emotions on his feathered face. Probably not.

Thorin looked at Carc.

‘Come,’ the large raven said. He led Bilbo to a crate that held several roots, berries and something that looked like roasted rabbit meat.

‘So, you hunt, eh?’ he said. The food seemed good and Bilbo ate some of it. He also took some to Thorin, but he refused. He did drink some water from a wooden cup. Bilbo watched curiously as Thorin held the cup to the side of his nose-beak and poured some water into it, tilting his head backwards. His eyes narrowed when he saw Bilbo’s gaze fixed on him. Bilbo just smiled and held his waterskin up as in a toast before taking a sip.

‘Are you in pain?’ he asked. Thorin just grunted, taking another gulp of water. He put the cup down and leaned his head back, eyes closed. Bilbo stared at him for a while, until steady breathing indicated that the wounded creature had fallen asleep.

Bilbo stood and walked around the cave with a candle in his hand. Thorin and his ravens had accumulated quite a stock of very random items. He saw pieces of crockery, toys, pieces of cloth – he took some of those to use for bandages – precious stones, gold coins, necklaces, an assortment of small baskets and cups, pouches and even a few knives. In a corner he found the sword that Eajur had mentioned. He picked it up, weighing it in his hand. He didn’t know much about swords, but it seemed sturdy enough. He put it back and turning around he saw Carc’s beady eye fixed on him. 

‘Don’t worry,’ he said quietly, not wanting to wake Thorin. ‘I’m not going to patch him up and then murder him in his sleep.’ He grinned at the raven.

His next discovery surprised him. In a wooden box he found a number of books. They looked old and battered and most of them were written in a language he didn’t know. Two were in Westron, however, and he took one of them with him to the table. It was a history of the Dwarven kingdom of Moria. By the light of the candles he began to read.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Bilbo started awake. He lifted his head from the book on the table, where he had apparently fallen asleep. Several of the candles had burned up, he noticed. Suddenly a moan came from where Thorin lay. Bilbo was on his feet immediately to check up on his patient. Thorin was tossing and turning. Bilbo held a hand to his head, but he couldn’t feel anything through the feathers. With some hesitation he then put the back of his hand on the nose-beak. It was softer than he had expected, a little harder than skin, but not as hard as a bird’s beak. And the skin was very warm.

At his touch Thorin jolted awake, his right hand surged forward, grabbing the front of Bilbo’s shirt. His eyes were wide. Bilbo spread his hands in a disarming gesture.

‘Calm down, it’s only me,’ he said, instinctively using his bird voice. Thorin did not loosen his grip. He stared at Bilbo, terror in his eyes. Bilbo calmly looked back. When Thorin remained frozen, he patted the strange pale hand, squeezed it softly.

‘It’s alright,’ he said. ‘I won’t hurt you, and I will make sure you are safe.’ The fear in those very blue eyes began to subside. Finally Thorin let go of Bilbo’s shirt and fell back into the furs, breathing heavily.

‘I think you have developed a fever,’ said Bilbo. ‘One or more of your wounds may be infected. I will check them later, but for now I would like to brew you a tea that will help fight the fever.’ He turned around to get his bag and look for elderberry and yarrow. He lit some new candles and found a small iron pot he could use to boil the tea. He had to go outside to collect some more water and found that it must be late afternoon already. Briefly he wondered if the villagers would be out looking for him. He just hoped the ravens wouldn’t hurt them if they were. Thinking of ravens, he looked around him. He had not seen any but Carc, but surely they must be near. He didn’t see a single raven however, and went back inside.

There was an iron bar over the fire where he could hang the pot. He stoked the fire, and added some wood from the stack that lay beside it. While the water was heating up, he gathered the food that was left in one of the little baskets and brought it to Thorin, who had been following him with his eyes.

‘You need to eat something,’ Bilbo said. ‘Even if it’s just a few berries.’ He held them out to Thorin, who looked away pointedly. Bilbo sighed. He popped the berries into his own mouth.

‘Will you at least promise to drink the tea?’ he asked. ‘And we need more food. Is it you who hunts and gathers, or the ravens?’

‘Soon we hunt,’ croaked Carc’s voice behind them. Bilbo turned around to watch him. 

‘Where are all the ravens?’ he asked. ‘And how is the one I treated?’

‘Outside,’ Carc said. 

‘She is...’ said Thorin. He took a breath. ‘... well.’ He shifted in his blankets. ‘Thank you.’ Bilbo noticed that his words, though still evidently spoken with some difficulty, were becoming more understandable. He smiled at Thorin. 

‘You’re welcome.’ Bilbo went to the hearth where the water was boiling. He prepared the herbal tea. While waiting for it to cool down a bit, he looked at Thorin again.

‘Thorin,’ he said. ‘I know it’s not really my business, but this feud between you and the village...’

‘Not your business!’ 

‘Look, there are injuries on both sides, and lucky me gets to treat both. I really think...’

‘Shut up!’ Thorin struggled to sit up, glaring at Bilbo. ‘Go away!’

‘Oh, you’re not getting rid of me that easily,’ said Bilbo. ‘But I would like to know if you are responsible for the ilness.’

Thorin huffed and sank back into the blankets. Bilbo sat down on the floor next to him with the cup of tea. Thorin turned his head away from him. The hobbit sat in silence for a while.

‘Children and old people died, you know,’ he said quietly. ‘Is that what you wanted?’ Thorin did not react. ‘You know that boy that was with me the first time I saw Carc? He almost lost his little sister. I was able to save her, but it was almost too late.’

There was still no reaction.

‘Thorin...’ 

The raven-like being suddenly turned around forcefully, eyes blazing like fire.

‘Why would I care? You know nothing, hobbit!’ he snapped.

‘Would you tell me? Tell me what has made you so angry?’

During a long moment Thorin stared directly into Bilbo’s eyes. Then he blinked.

‘No,’ he said. 

‘Very well,’ said Bilbo calmly. ‘Will you drink this tea though? Please?’

To his surprise Thorin took the cup without protest and began to drink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :-)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Surprisingly, they talk. Bilbo gets some answers, and new questions.

Bilbo was still in the cave five days later. He had been tending to Thorin’s wounds, which had become infected indeed, and helped him through a period of strong fever. The ravens had brought food: rabbits, fruit and even fish. Water had become a problem since there had been no rain and the basin had dried up. So on the second and fourth days he had taken his waterskin and two buckets he had found and gone down the Stair. A group of ravens had guided him to the river. He had taken the opportunity to fill up on herbs and roots as well.

Thorin was a moody patient. There were times when he seemed calm and almost mellow. His eyes watched Bilbo puttering around the cave preparing herbs, teas, soups and dinner. He sometimes asked the hobbit a question, but mainly contented himself with quietly listening to Bilbo babbling about his travels and adventures. At other times he was withdrawn, refusing to talk or even acknowledge Bilbo’s presence. During those periods Bilbo often went outside to sit in the sun for a while and chat to the ravens. Carc was still the only one who was inside a lot of the time, the smaller ravens only came in to bring things or talk with Carc or Thorin. It seemed most of them didn’t speak Westron, they only communicated in croaks and screeches. 

Bilbo had found that there were close to fifty ravens. They were hardly ever all in one place, but when he had exited the cave on the second day, he was greeted by the whole flock, sitting scattered around the entrance of the cave in complete silence. They all stared at him for a while, then most of them flew off. It felt as if he had either been subjected to some sort of test, or they had wanted to warn him off hurting their leader. 

After that, he dared ask Carc how he had known his name. The big raven explained that they kept an eye on the village and had seen Bilbo and overheard people talking about him.

Thorin still slept a lot. Bilbo had finished reading the History of Moria and started on the second book he could read: a biography of King Thror of Erebor.

‘Baggins.’ Thorin’s voice was much clearer now, though it still had a croaking quality. Bilbo had given up on telling him to call him by his first name. ‘Will you help me?’

After the first two days, Thorin had needed to go outside a few times a day to relieve himself. Bilbo would help him up and support him while they slowly walked to the exit of the cave. Thorin was a good head taller than Bilbo and rather bulky. His legs were relatively thin, just like his hands, and only covered in feathers until the knee. Below that they were bare and naked. He wore no clothes, but he did wear crudely made leather boots with soft soles. 

‘Come on,’ said Bilbo, extending his hand. He put his arm around Thorin’s waist and draped the creature’s unharmed wing over his shoulder. While they walked through the cave he pondered what a strange feeling that was, being covered in a large wing. Carc followed them, like he always did. Bilbo had experienced a lot of things in his roaming life, but his stay here was surely the strangest of them all.

‘You are walking better today,’ he said. Thorin made a non-committal sound. ‘You are,’ said Bilbo. ‘And the fever’s been gone a whole day. I think you will mend quickly now.’ Thorin only grunted.

Bilbo sat on a rock while Thorin retreated. The sun was setting in a red sky. A small group of ravens flew in, landing near Bilbo.

‘I hope you haven’t been menacing the villagers,’ he said to them. ‘If they ventured this way, it must have been to find me. They have been very kind to me.’

‘They would,’ said Thorin grumpily, limping back holding himself steady against the rocks, and setting himself next to Bilbo, pushing his long tail feathers out of the way. ‘They needed your help.’

Bilbo turned towards him, frowning. 

‘ _You_ haven’t been very kind to me,’ he said, arching his eyebrow. Thorins eyes widened. He wrapped his wings around him and ducked his head. Bilbo sighed. This was Thorin’s preferred way to pretend he wasn’t there.

‘Oh come on, you big lump,’ Bilbo said, bumping him with his elbow. ‘You know it’s true. The best I get from you is resigned acceptance. They gave me smiles and kind words, they brought me food and presents.’

‘I give you food.’ Thorin’s voice sounded muffled from behind his wings. Bilbo chuckled.

‘Your ravens give me food,’ he said. ‘And then I prepare it for you.’ Thorin’s head ducked lower. Bilbo felt a little guilty. At moments like this Thorin looked... vulnerable. He patted the smooth black feathers.

‘I’m just teasing you, although it is true, strictly speaking,’ he said softly. ‘It doesn’t matter, Thorin.’ Strangely enough, it didn’t. 

They sat in silence for a while. Bilbo wished he had brought his pipe, but that was still in the village.

‘I wish I had a pipe and some pipe-weed,’ he groaned, stretching his back. ‘Ah, Old Toby! It must be years since I last smoked that.’ He turned to Thorin, to find that his head had come up from his feathers. Outside, in the daylight, his eyes were an even more intense blue than they seemed insde the cave. Bilbo found them quite enchanting, even though the way they could stare at him was at times slightly unsettling. He shivered.

‘Are you cold?’ The question surprised him, Thorin had never seemed very bothered about Bilbo’s wellbeing before. He shook his head. 

‘No. Do you want to go in?’

‘Do you?’

Bilbo glanced at Thorin.

‘I would like to sit here for a bit,’ he said. The feathered head nodded.

They sat until the sun sank below the horizon. Then Bilbo did become cold.

‘Shall we go in?’ he said. Thorin stood without speaking. Bilbo positioned himself to his side and the black wing curled around his shoulder once again. It was nice and warm actually.

Thorin wanted to sit at the table while Bilbo prepared their meal. He looked at the book about Thror that Bilbo had left lying there.

‘Do you like to read?’ he asked.

‘Yes,’ said Bilbo. ‘It’s a pity I can’t read your other books.’ When Thorin didn’t respond, the hobbit looked at him. His long white fingers stroked the book absentmindedly. Bilbo hooked the pot over the fire and went to the table. He sat down on the crate that he used for a chair whenever Thorin sat with him.

‘Thorin,’ Bilbo said. ‘Are they in Khuzdûl?’ He hesitated. ‘Are you a Dwarf?’ For a moment all he could hear was the crackling of the fire. Then Thorin slammed his hand on the table.

‘Do I look like a Dwarf?’ he bellowed. ‘Do Dwarves look like this?’

‘No, no, I mean ...’ 

‘Then don’t ask stupid questions. I am not a Dwarf, I am a monster.’ Thorin glared at Bilbo. ‘In case you hadn’t noticed.’ He stood up and threw the book away. It crashed against the wall. Bilbo took deep steadying breaths. Thorin tried to walk to his bed, but he stumbled and had to grab the table to maintain his balance. With a throaty growl he sat down on the stool again.

‘They call you a spectre in the village,’ said Bilbo in a calm voice. ‘Some think you are a wizard gone bad.’

‘Wizard!’ Thorin spat on the ground. Bilbo narrowed his eyes.

‘Did a wizard do this to you?’ he asked. Thorin froze. He did not look up. ‘Really, a wizard?’

‘What is it to you anyway?’ said Thorin gruffly.

Bilbo shrugged.

‘I’m curious,’ he confessed. ‘And I met a wizard once, Radagast the Brown. Weird fellow, but not a bad sort. Also my mother knew Gandalf the Grey. Apparently he was good with fireworks. He occasionally visited the Shire.’

Thorin was looking at Bilbo now, his expression inscrutable as ever.

‘Not them,’ he said.

‘Hmm,’ Bilbo eyed him shrewdly. ‘One of the Blue ones then? Or... Saruman?’

Thorin flinched at the mention of the last name, though he tried to hide it. Bilbo hummed. Saruman the White. The head of the Istari. Whatever could have been the reason that he would find it necessary to inflict such a curse on Thorin?

‘But you were a Dwarf,’ Bilbo said softly. ‘Weren’t you?’

Thorin hid himself in his wings again and refused to react.

Bilbo went about preparing their meal in silence. He would often hum one of the many songs he knew, but he didn’t feel like it now. The mystery of Thorin’s appearance interested him, but he could, or would, never force him to tell. Surely one of the Istari would not curse someone for a trifle. It must have been something quite serious. He wondered whether Thorin was, or had been, dangerous. The actions of his ravens against the village weren’t exactly nice, and if he had caused the illness, he was indeed dangerous. But still. 

Bilbo tasted the stew and decided it was almost finished. He glanced over at Thorin, who had emerged from hiding and was staring at the table, drawing circles with his index finger. Something clenched in Bilbo’s chest and he cursed himself. Always drawn to those who needed help. He stirred in the pot, trying to tell himself that he had to find a way to go back to the village, to his life. Leave this gloomy cave and its strange, dangerous Raven-Dwarf with an army of birds and a talking raven general. He sighed deeply. Who was he kidding?

They ate without talking, Thorin avoiding Bilbo’s eyes. Carc was perched on a crate against the wall, staring at the both of them. When Bilbo finished his stew, he had made up his mind.

‘Thorin, I know you will be angry, but I have to ask you something.’ When Thorin didn’t react, he went on, hoping for the best. ‘You know I’m a healer, and you know I have helped the villagers fight this sickness.’

Thorin put his empty bowl down with a bang. He still wasn’t looking at Bilbo.

‘Thorin, please listen to me. I really don’t want to be caught up in this feud between you and the village, but... They are nice people, or at least most of them. I’m not there to help them now and I can’t help thinking how many children might die without me. If you have any influence on this disease, would you please stop them becoming ill?’ 

It was silent for a long while, and Bilbo had just given up on ever receiving an answer, when Thorin spoke.

‘There should have been less and less new cases since...that night.’

Bilbo closed his eyes and exhaled.

‘Thank you,’ he said. When he opened his eyes, he found Thorin’s fixed on him.

‘They started it,’ said Thorin. Bilbo thought back to what Eajur had told him. 

‘They tried to catch you, then they hunted your ravens, and finally they tried to poison them.’

Thorin’s eyes widened.

‘I heard the story,’ Bilbo said. ‘They have done wrong.’ Thorin was still staring at him. ‘But, you have also done wrong, Thorin. Your ravens have been bullying the village.’

‘They protect me,’ croaked Thorin gruffly.

‘Do they cause the illness?’

Thorin looked at him for a long time, then shook his head.

‘I do that,’ he said.

‘How? Is it some sort of magic?’

Thorin croaked out a hoarse laugh.

‘Of course not. It’s in the water. Fungi.’

Bilbo frowned. 

‘They grow at the foot of the mountain,’ Thorin said. ‘Quite a lot of them. I got sick when I tried a piece when I just arrived here. After the poisoned bait, I put them in the river. Cut into pieces and also dried and powdered. Apparently it works. Wasn’t sure.’

Suddenly Bilbo recalled that scene near the village, people filling their bottles and buckets.

‘But we’ve been drinking from the river too!’

Thorin scoffed.

‘Don’t be ridiculous. Obviously I put it in that shallow part where they take their water. There’s not a lot of flow there.’ 

‘Oh Thorin.’ Bilbo looked at the mysterious creature across the table. ‘Did you mean to kill?’

Thorin shrugged, but avoided Bilbo’s glance.

‘Not really,’ he admitted after a while. ‘Never thought about it much.’

Bilbo sighed and lowered his head into his hands. Thorin was dangerous, but only half-consciously so, it seemed. And he had been provoked. Bilbo wondered where he had come from and what his life had been like before he was cursed.

‘Is there no way for you to come to a peace with the village?’ Bilbo asked.

Thorin threw him a disbelieving glance.

‘Have you looked at me?’ he asked.

Bilbo cast down his eyes. He did have a point. It was very doubtful the Men would accept a cursed Dwarf living in a cave nearby. And if they did and if the story became known, it would probably attract all sorts of bounty hunters and other people with unsavory plans. Having a captive ‘monster’ would appeal to some, and others might even prefer him dead and stuffed. Bilbo shivered at the thought. When he looked at Thorin again, he found him observing him with a curious look in his eyes.

‘You are right,’ the hobbit admitted. ‘But will you at least stop making them ill now?’

Thorin hummed.

‘Maybe,’ he said.

When it became obvious that Thorin wasn’t prepared to talk about it anymore, Bilbo helped him to his bed. He retrieved the book about Thror and sat down to read, but he found he couldn’t concentrate. His mind kept going back to the strange Dwarf and his curse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Turned out I needed to add a number of things to this chapter. Hence its length :-)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo has a chance to leave, will he take it?

The next morning, after breakfast, Bilbo announced that he was going out for water.

‘Do you have to?’ asked Thorin. Bilbo cast him a surprised look.

‘Of course,’ he said. ‘We’re almost out and there has been no rain.’

‘The ravens say that the villagers have been venturing quite close,’ said Thorin, sounding reluctant. Bilbo raised his eyebrow at him.

‘Surely they can chase them off?’ He frowned at himself, realizing what he had said. From the look in Thorin’s eyes, he had realized it too. Suddenly there was a glint in them he had never seen before.

‘I thought you...’ Thorin began.

‘Yes, yes,’ said Bilbo irritated. ‘But if they see me, well, it would be awkward.’ Oh Eru, he must be mad. 

‘So,’ said Thorin. He fiddled with his long fingers. ‘You will come back?’

Bilbo looked at him sharply.

‘Do I have a choice?’

Thorin hesitated.

‘Yes,’ he said, not looking at Bilbo.

Bilbo stared at him, dumbfounded. He had assumed that the ravens would force him to return to the cave if he tried to leave, at least before Thorin was completely healed.

‘You would let me go?’ he asked, leaning forward over the table.

Carc said something in the harsh sounds they sometimes used. Thorin answered him back, Carc replied and then Thorin shouted at him, sounding angry. He turned to Bilbo.

‘You are free to go,’ he bit. He stood up and managed to walk away by himself, only slightly wobbling. Bilbo stared at his feathered back, mouth slightly open. Then he got up, gathered his bag, his waterskin and the two buckets and left.

All the way to the river, Bilbo’s mind was turning. He could just go, go back to the village, load up Myrtle and leave. Go back to travelling as he had done these past twenty years. But then he thought about Thorin’s piercing eyes, his huddled form when he hid in his wings, the quiet but intense way he listened when Bilbo was talking.

‘Aaah!’ he shouted into the quiet woods, throwing the buckets to the ground and clutching his head with both hands. He breathed deeply for a while. Then, ashamed of his outburst, he gathered the buckets again and resumed his walk.

At the river he sat on the ground, bathing his feet in the cool water, staring at the small fish that were swirling around a little further in. Suddenly he heard a melodious tweet. A small grey bird was sitting closeby.

‘Hello there,’ Bilbo said in his soft bird-voice, extending his hand. The little bird flew up to him immediately, perching on his arm. Bilbo looked at the silky feathers, the little black eye and sighed. He had missed the small birds. They wouldn’t go near him if the ravens were there. He frowned and looked around. If this bird had come to him, that meant that there were no ravens. 

He heard fluttering and within a few minutes several other small birds came to him, all twittering softly. He couldn’t help smiling as he talked to them and stroked them with one finger. They were so much softer and mellower than the ravens. More vulnerable. He had missed them so much. This simple feeling of peace and softness. Suddenly his eyes filled with tears and he lowered his head. There had been so little peace in this valley for years. And who knows when Thorin had last felt peace. He buried his face in his hands, the birds fluttering down from his arms, some relocating to his head. He had known the Raven-Dwarf for not even a week, why would he care about his fate? But somehow, under all that grumpiness, he seemed so lonely and hurt. Bilbo grunted. He was a Dwarf, he had done something to earn the wrath of a wizard and he had been poisoning a village, why would he feel sorry for him?

Bilbo lowered his hands, staring at the water. Suddenly all the small birds flew up and disappeared. 

‘Baggins,’ sounded a familiar croak. ‘Men are coming.’ Bilbo looked up, finding Carc sitting on a boulder.

‘Here?’ he asked. ‘They are coming all this way?’ He looked to the North. This was his chance. He could let them find him, he could tell them...

‘Oh rot!’ he exclaimed. Then he grabbed his skin and the buckets, filled them all and hastened back to the woods, followed by Carc.

At the Stair, Carc flew up, and when he reached the entrance of the cave he found Thorin waiting for him outside.

‘You returned,’ he said, eyes glimmering.

‘Yes, yes I did,’ said Bilbo. He put the buckets down. ‘I did,’ he repeated.

‘Why?’

Bilbo exhaled deeply, feeling tired.

‘Because I thought you could use a friend,’ he said.

 

0o0o0o0o0

 

They spent the rest of the day in companiable silence, going about their usual business. The ravens brought a rabbit and a salmon, which Thorin skinned and Bilbo prepared. Bilbo caught Thorin looking at him frequently. In the late afternoon they sat on the ledge outside, reading. Thorin had taken one of the books in Khuzdûl. Apparently it was about gems, gathering from the illustrations.

‘I don’t know how to have a friend,’ Thorin said suddenly.

‘You what?’ Bilbo stared at him, but Thorin was looking down into the valley.

‘Don’t be silly,’ said Bilbo, his heart clenching again. ‘Of course you do. I mean...’ He trailed off. It wasn’t like he had a lot of experience having friends himself. ‘Thorin, how long have you been like this?’

‘I lost count,’ the Raven-Dwarf said. ‘Eighty years?’

Bilbo gasped. The book fell from his suddenly limp fingers.

‘Eighty years? Eight decades?’

‘Maybe a hundred.’

‘By the Valar!’ exclaimed Bilbo. He jumped up and began pacing. Eighty years! This being had been cast out and alone for close to a century.

‘What did you do, Thorin? Whatever did you do to deserve this? Nodoby deserves this for such a long time!’

Thorin looked at him, eyes wide.

‘Tell me, tell me why Saruman thought this was appropriate?’

‘I... I stole from him.’

‘You stole from him?’ Bilbo fell down on the rock again. ‘What did you steal? His tower?’

Thorin chuckled. Then he became serious again. His fingers fumbled with the feathers on his legs.

‘His palantír,’ he said quietly.

Bilbo stared at him.

‘You stole a palantír from the head of the Istari? Were you soft in the head?’

Thorin started to sink into his wings.

‘Oh no you don’t,’ Bilbo said, grabbing one of his wing-arms. ‘I am your friend and this is what friends do.’ 

Thorin looked at him, eyes peering over the top of his wings.

‘They trust each other and talk,’ clarified Bilbo. Then he lowered his head. How could he expect Thorin to trust him after just a few days when he had so many decades behind him of being a monster? Then he thought of something.

‘I never told you why I left the Shire, did I?’ he said. Thorin’s head popped up at the unexpected change of subject. Bilbo shifted to sit comfortably before embarking on his story.

‘I have a special gift, I suppose, with birds,’ he started. If Thorin had had eyebrows, Bilbo was certain he would have raised them now. Bilbo chuckled. ‘I know,’ he said. ‘Odd coincidence, right? But mine is more with smaller birds. Or maybe the birds in the Shire just were smaller. We surely had no ravens, not even crows. When I was a child, people thought it was cute how birds tended to seek me out. They forgave me for saying I understood them. But by the time I became a tween, the cuteness had worn out and they were calling me mad and weird and other less than pleasant names.’ 

Thorin’s gaze was set on Bilbo’s face in his usual intense manner. Bilbo blinked and looked away.

‘The birds were always following me around, and a right flock of them hung around Bag End. That’s my smial, my home. Or rather, it was. Then my parents died during the Fell Winter and there was nobody left who... there was nobody left.’ Bilbo took a deep breath. He was startled when a bony hand touched his arm. He glanced sideways, catching the blue eyes for a moment before turning away again. 

‘I roamed around most of the time, going as far as Bree, learning about herbs and medicins. The hobbits would find me if they needed my skill as a healer, but otherwise they avoided me. I didn’t mind so much really, as long as they left me to my business. And some of my cousins were still talking to me. But then some other family members decided I had brought enough shame to the Baggins name and they tried everything to stop me being such a weird hobbit.’ Bilbo laughed, but it was a bitter laugh. ‘Needless to say it didn’t work. Their final bid was to have the Thain proclaim that I was to marry one of the North-Tooks, convinced that they would be able to keep me in reign. Since I wasn’t of age yet, there wasn’t anything I could do. So I left. And I’ve been travelling ever since.’

‘How long?’ asked Thorin quietly.

‘Twenty-odd years,’ answered Bilbo. ‘I know it’s nothing compared to you, but for a hobbit...’ Suddenly he had a lump in his throat. Hobbits weren’t made to travel around alone, and he would never return to the Shire.

The bony fingers came to rest on his arm again. It was oddly comfortable.

‘I was tired of being at other people’s mercy,’ said Thorin. ‘I thought I could sell the palantír for a lot of money and buy myself a home, maybe start a business somewhere.’

Bilbo turned to face him.

‘I don’t understand,’ he said. ‘I thought Dwarves usually worked as miners or smiths in their kingdoms.’ 

‘I tried to do that in the Iron Hills, but they found out who I was.’

Bilbo looked at him with a frown.

‘Who were you then?’

Thorin removed his hand from Bilbo’s arm. 

‘Maybe I will tell you one day,’ he said quietly.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin tries to be a friend. And they're going to travel!

‘You do have friends, you know,’ said Bilbo after dinner. ‘Carc and the other ravens.’

‘It’s not the same,’ mumbled Thorin. He was rummaging around in a small box on one of the smaller tables against the wall. ‘Though I am very fortunate to have them.’

‘I still can’t believe you have been like this for eighty years. On your own.’ And with no moral guidance, he thought. Disconnected. Bilbo looked down at his book, swallowing. He had been struggling with his feelings of pity and compassion ever since Thorin told him. ‘It’s not right, Thorin. Something should be done.’ 

‘Nothing can be done,’ said Thorin. Suddenly a small leather pouch was dropped on the table next to Bilbo’s book. He looked up to find Thorin standing close.

‘What’s this?’

‘A present,’ said Thorin. He walked around the table and sat on the stool, looking at Bilbo expectantly. The hobbit opened the pouch and poured the contents onto the table. He gasped when at least a dozen gems scattered from it. Some of them were polished, others raw.

Thorin’s pale index finger pointed at each of them in turn.

‘This is a ruby, this a beryl, peridot, emerald, sapphire, amethist, quartz, that’s not worth a lot but this one is the colour of your eyes, another emerald, a few rubies, a garnet, and this is a diamond, although unpolished. And ...’ He took the pouch and produced a fine gold necklace that had not fallen out with the gems.

Bilbo stared at the stones, he opened and closed his mouth a few times.

‘D-don’t you like it?’ stuttered Thorin. ‘I told you I don’t know how to have a friend.’

‘Are you joking?’ exclaimed Bilbo. ‘Goodness, Thorin, this is far too much. Look at them!’ He picked up the stone that had drawn his attention immediately, the sapphire. Blushing, he realized why he liked it so much, and put it down again, touching the emeralds and the rubies instead.

‘They’re beautiful,’ he said, looking at Thorin. ‘But really, it is too much. This must be worth a fortune.’

‘Hardly,’ said Thorin, voice a bit unsteady. ‘I just selected the best ones.’ Absentmindedly he shifted the grey quartz around. ‘I have no need for them anyway, you can have all of them if you want. There are more necklaces too, only I thought this one was best for you, since you aren’t that big, and the other ones are too long or too bulky, and...’ 

He stopped talking when Bilbo stood up, walked around the table and hugged him. He didn’t move, seemingly frozen. Bilbo held him for just a moment, then let go of him.

‘Thank you, Thorin. They’re all beautiful. And I don’t need any more of them. I will just ...’ He closed the necklace around his neck. ‘... put this on. There.’

Thorin’s eyes lit up. Bilbo wished the Raven-Dwarf could smile, but his nose-beak did not allow it. So he smiled for both of them, going back to his crate. He picked up each stone to examine it, while Thorin told him about the properties of the stone. He had never seen him so animated. When all the gems were back in the pouch, silence fell. Bilbo thought about the Dwarf Thorin had been. 

‘I meant it,’ he said suddenly. ‘Something has to be done. You must go to Saruman and ask him to turn you back.’

‘No!’ said Thorin vehemently. ‘He threatened me with even worse curses if he ever laid eyes upon me again.’

‘It’s been eighty years!’

‘No!’

‘Well, then I will go. Isengard isn’t too far from here.’ Bilbo rose. ‘I will pack my things and leave tomorrow.’

‘You...no! You can’t do that!’

‘Watch me.’

‘But...’

Bilbo turned around.

‘Thorin, I am leaving for Isengard tomorrow, you can come with me or wait here, but I am going. Leaving you a raven creature for so long, really! It’s unworthy of the head of the Istari!’ 

Thorin sat staring at him, beak half open.

‘But... you can’t, I can’t, how...’

Bilbo looked at him, all black and feathery, with a beak for a nose and wings on his arms. He slumped a little. How indeed. How could Thorin ever travel looking like that? And if Saruman agreed to change him back, he could hardly expect the wizard to travel back with him to this cave if Thorin stayed here. But Thorin had to have come here once.

‘How did you travel before you arrived here?’ he asked.

‘By night, and very carefully,’ said Thorin. ‘And slowly.’

‘Hm.’ Bilbo sat on his crate again, leaning on the table with his head in his hands. It would take them ages to reach Isengard that way, and it would be awkward and possibly dangerous. But how could they travel during the day? If they had a wagon, they could hide Thorin inside. Maybe disguised as well. But they didn’t even have Myrtle. Unless ... Bilbo sat up straight.

‘Thorin, have your ravens been raiding the village this past week?’

‘Umm, no,’ Thorin said. Bilbo raised his eyebrows. ‘Well, the first two days I was too ill, and after that... you were pleading with me, and maybe you were right, and I didn’t really need anything anyway, and, well...’ His voice trailed off.

Bilbo smiled. Thorin had listened to him and stopped the raids. This was a good sign, wasn’t it?

‘Thank you, my friend,’ he said warmly. ‘But I think they will have to start again, only don’t let them hurt people or destroy things. But let them chase the Men away from here as well. I have a plan, and it will take some preparation.’

 

0o0o0o0o0o0

 

Bilbo couldn’t believe it had worked. The hardest part had been to keep Myrtle quiet once she had recognized who it was that took her from the barn in the middle of the night. He lead her out of the village as quickly as he could after having made sure that the pieces of cloth were secured over her hooves. He could still hear the racket the ravens were making in the village, making sure that nobody would dare to even peek out.  
Now he had to find Thorin. He should be around here. Suddenly Myrtle flinched, uttering a deep grunt.

‘It’s alright girl,’ Bilbo said when he saw a dark shape appearing from the bushes. ‘This is our friend, Thorin. Thorin, come over and meet Myrtle.’ Hesitantly the Raven-Dwarf came forward. He was covered in the big hooded cloak Bilbo had made for him. He was wearing loose trousers and his boots, and as long as he kept himself covered, nobody would see how he looked.

Myrtle whinnied softly, no doubt unnerved by Thorin’s unfamiliar smell. Bilbo talked to her while Thorin approached her and eventually he managed to stroke her nose. He had guarded their packs, which Bilbo now proceeded to tie to Myrtle. 

‘Let’s go,’ said Bilbo. They would try to get past Upbourn before first light. Thorin said he knew of a small cave in the vicinity where they would be able to hide for the day. They would travel by night at first, for fear that someone would recognize Bilbo, but later they would buy a small wagon for Thorin to hide in.

 

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

 

‘Thorin? You can come out.’ Bilbo opened the flap behind him and peeked in. Thorin was huddled on one of their bedrolls near the front of the wagon. He didn’t react.

‘We’ve taken the turn to Isengard and we’re not very likely to meet travellers here, are we?’ Bilbo said. Thorin had been so withdrawn today, and just when he thought that things were going well. Thorin was very much as he had been in the cave, rather quiet and sometimes moody, but he had seemed to open up a bit and last night he had even read to Bilbo from his Khuzdûl book about Durin the the Deathless.

Thorin grumbled something and stayed where he was. Bilbo sighed a little. He turned back to face the road, humming a song under his breath. Maybe they would arrive at Saruman’s tower today, he wasn’t entirely sure how far it was from the main road. He thought about what he’d say to the wizard. ‘Oh, hello sir, remember Thorin? Would you please turn him back into a Dwarf?’ Bilbo chortled. Who knows. Or, what he would really want to say: ‘Are you out of your mind, doing this to someone and leaving them for almost a century?’ Not for the first time he wondered about Thorin’s past. Somehow something was off. Failing to set up a business on his own, people discovering who he was, not having friends. Ah well, to be honest, it didn’t seem to have been that much different from his own life in the Shire.

He was wakened from his reverie by something pushing against him, almost shoving him aside.

‘Sorry,’ mumbled Thorin, who was clumsily trying to climb onto the seat. Bilbo extended a hand and helped him. Thorin’s body was not always easy to navigate, with the slightly stiff legs, the winged arms and the tail feathers, hindered even more by the long cloak.

‘Blast,’ Thorin grunted while he tried to put his tail feathers over the edge of the seat while having his cloak still covering his front.

‘I’m sorry, you don’t have to sit here,’ said Bilbo. It earned him an glare.

‘First you tell me to come, then you tell me I don’t have to.’

‘Don’t be like that. I thought you’d like to sit outside for a change,’ said Bilbo, feeling a bit irked despite himself. ‘I didn’t tell you to come, I invited you.’

Thorin didn’t say anything to that.

‘Have you seen Carc?’ he asked.

‘Not since this morning,’ answered Bilbo. The large raven was the only one of the birds who had gone with them, more of them would draw too much attention. During the day he flew on his own, joining them at night to keep watch. Although Bilbo had the distinct feeling that Thorin kept watch as well for at least part of the night.

Thorin hummed in acknowledgment, then settled into his customary silence. Bilbo wondered if he was apprehensive. It was hard to tell, unless he could see his eyes. But those were hidden by the large hood. Bilbo bumped him with his elbow.

‘Are you alright?’ he asked.

Thorin didn’t answer for a while and Bilbo was just about to go back to his song, when he said: ‘I suppose.’

‘I’ll talk to him first,’ Bilbo said. He was a bit worried that the wizard would actually be angry when seeing Thorin unannounced. ‘Then when I ...’

‘No,’ said Thorin.

‘Thorin, I really think it is best if I explain things to him first.’

‘I am not letting you go to that wizard alone,’ Thorin said determinedly. ‘He is dangerous.’

‘He’s the head of the Order, he’s friends with the Elves of Lorien, he...’

Thorin snorted.

‘You think that makes it better? That he’s friends with Elves?’ 

Bilbo rolled his eyes. Elves and Dwarves, he should have known better than to mention that.

‘Anyway, he’s respected by all races,’ he said.

‘Maybe,’ Thorin said. ‘All the same, you’re not going in alone. In fact, I should go in by myself.’

‘No,’ said Bilbo. He was not letting that stubborn Dwarf-Raven anywhere near the wizard without him. Eru knows what would happen. ‘We’ll go together then.’

Sunset came, and although Orthanc was looming closer and closer, they had not reached the gate yet, so they decided to settle for the night. Bilbo steered the wagon off the road when they saw a suitable spot next to the river. While Thorin made a small fire, the hobbit released the ponies and prepared them for the night. When he came to the back of the wagon, he was pleasantly surprised by Thorin handing him a mug of steaming hot tea.

‘Oh, lovely,’ Bilbo said, taking a sip. He was getting used to the strong tea Thorin made. 

‘Do you want stew, or will bread do?’ asked Thorin, rummaging in the crate at the back of the wagon. ‘We still have some of that cheese you bought.’

‘Bread and cheese is fine,’ answered Bilbo. To be honest, he wasn’t that hungry. There was a tightness in his stomach when he thought about tomorrow. Confronting a wizard wasn’t exactly an everyday task. Thorin put the food down next to him, and Bilbo was happy to see that he had brought his book too.

‘Will you read to me again?’ he asked, dividing the bread and cheese into two portions and handing one of them to Thorin.

‘If you like,’ was the tentative answer.

‘Yes, I like it.’ Bilbo chewed his bread. He really did like it. Thorin’s voice always sounded a bit screechy, raven-like if you want, but it was pleasantly deep and listening to him reading Dwarf history was soothing. 

They finished their simple meal in silence, and then Bilbo settled with another mug of tea while Thorin started to read by the light of a single candle. Translating the Khuzdul text at the spot was coming easier to him it seemed. Bilbo folded both his hands around his mug. He should get a blanket from the wagon, it was getting chilly. He shivered. Thorin immediately stopped reading.

‘Are you cold?’

‘A little,’ Bilbo said. ‘I’ll just get...’ But to his surprise Thorin scooted nearer to him, holding his cloak open. Bilbo didn’t hesitate, he shifted until he sat against Thorin’s warm feathers, pulling the cloak around him. And with the cloak Thorin’s winged arm came around his shoulders, lightly as if he wasn’t sure. Bilbo sighed contendedly, snuggling into the warmth, and he felt Thorin relax, the wing tighter around him. Thorin started to read again. Bilbo closed his eyes, sighed again, and felt more at ease than he had in a long, long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea how to gauge distances from the maps I have checked, so I’m leaving it a bit vague how long they are travelling, thinking a week or two from the cave, via Edoras to buy a wagon and extra pony, to Isengard.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin talks...

There were guards at the gate. Two soldiers in the armour of Gondor stood in front of it, and at the sound of the approaching wagon, two more appeared from a small building to the side. Bilbo drove up to the gate and stopped. The guards pointed their spears toward them. Bilbo raised his hands.

‘We are harmless travellers,’ he said.

‘Come down,’ said one of the guards, approaching the wagon. While Bilbo complied, two other soldiers walked around the back.

‘Is there someone else in there?’ one of them asked. ‘Come out slowly.’ Bilbo couldn’t see if Thorin did come out, but the exclamations told him he had. And that he had been unsuccesful in covering himself up. Not a moment later Thorin was shoved toward him rather uncomplimentary. Luckily he didn’t put up a fight.

The soldier guarding Bilbo started at seeing Thorin, whose cloak was closed, but his hood was down. His eyes sought Bilbo immediately and he tensed when he saw the spear pointed at the hobbit. He rushed to stand in front of Bilbo, completely shielding him from the soldiers. He didn’t say anything but his stance was abundantly clear. 

Bilbo laid a hand on Thorin’s shoulder, squeezing him gently.

‘It’s alright,’ he whispered. ‘They are just doing their job.’ Slowly he stepped sideways, so he could see the soldiers.

‘We are here to see Saruman the White,’ he said aloud.

‘What in Arda’s name are you?’ said one of the soldiers, staring at Thorin. He eased his spear forward and tried to pry Thorin’s cloak open with it. Thorin growled. Bilbo stepped half in front of him.

‘Please don’t do that,’ he told the soldier sternly. ‘It is rude.’

The soldier chortled, and Bilbo felt Thorin stiffen behind him. He reached backwards with his hand, trying to warn him to stay calm. They stood no chance against four armed soldiers.  
One of the other soldiers stepped in, pushing the spear aside and casting his fellow guard a glance.

‘What is your business with the White Wizard?’ he asked.

‘We want to ask for his help,’ Bilbo said.

‘I can imagine,’ said the guard, looking at Thorin. ‘Not sure he can do anything though. Anyway, you’re out of luck, Lord Saruman is not here at the moment. He’s travelling and we don’t expect him back any time soon. Could be weeks or months, we never know.’

Bilbo’s face fell. 

‘Do you know where he went?’ he asked.

The friendly soldier looked at the hobbit, then at Thorin, then at the hobbit again. 

‘He left for Lorien two days ago,’ he said.

Bilbo turned around to look at Thorin. The look in his eyes made him grin.

‘Thank you,’ he said to the soldiers. ‘We will be on our way then, if that’s alright with you.’

The guard nodded and they lowered their spears. Thorin helped Bilbo back on the seat and clambered on as well. He glared at the guards while Bilbo had the ponies turn the wagon and start on the way back.

‘We’re not going to Lorien, are we?’ asked Thorin after a while.

‘Oh yes we are.’

‘But we don’t even know if he will still be there by the time we arrive.’

‘We will follow his trail as long as we need,’ said Bilbo determinedly. ‘Until we find him and make him change you back.’

Unexpectedly, Thorin chuckled.

‘Make him!’ he said. ‘You know, I am beginning to believe you will be able to make him, the way you rebuked that guard. ‘It’s rude!’’

‘Well, it was,’ said Bilbo. He scowled at the ponies’ backs. That one guard had really made him angry. His fists clenched around the reigns.

‘They called me the Erebor Abomination,’ said Thorin suddenly.

Bilbo jerked towards him.

‘What?’

Thorin looked away.

‘You mean, after Saruman cursed you?’

Thorin shook his head.

‘Before,’ he said. 'Saruman was much later, and I never went back to Erebor after that.' 

‘Before? I don’t understand.’ Bilbo looked at his friend, who was still turned away from him, looking down. Thorin took a breath.

‘I was completely covered in down when I was found as a baby. It fell off after a few weeks and I looked like a normal Dwarf baby after that. But everybody knew.’

Thorin slowly raised his head to look at Bilbo, as if he was afraid to see his face. Bilbo’s mouth had fallen open. This was it then, Thorin’s story in a few sentences. Bilbo’s chest tightened when he saw the insecurity in his eyes. Without another thought he let go of the reigns, turned to Thorin and drew him into an embrace. Thorin was stiff as a rock at first, but slowly he relaxed and finally Bilbo heard him exhale and then he sagged into the hobbit’s arms, his head resting on his shoulder. Bilbo tried to blink his tears away. Thorin abandoned as a baby and then treated as an outcast, a monster even, all his life. He tightened his arms even more, as if he wanted to pull Thorin right into his heart.

‘Oh, you must have been so soft,’ was the first thing that came out when he found his voice again. Thorin went very still, and then Bilbo heard a chuckle that transformed into a sob. Thorin’s fingers, restricted by his cloak, dug into Bilbo’s sides. 

‘Bilbo,’ whispered Thorin. ‘I am so tired.’ 

‘It’s alright, I have you,’ said Bilbo. He wasn’t exactly sure what he meant by that, but he was certain that it was true. ‘We will find Saruman, and he will change you back, and you will be alright.’ Then he realised this was the first time Thorin had ever said his given name and he fell silent.

‘What if he doesn’t?’ asked Thorin quietly.

‘He will,’ said Bilbo. ‘And if he won’t we will seek out Gandalf, or Queen Galadriel, or whoever, and I will make them help you.’ He inhaled. All sorts of possibilities went through his head. ‘We can summon your ravens, and I will gather all the birds I can find, and I will ...’

Suddenly Thorin was chuckling. He removed himself from Bilbo to look him in the face. There were crinkles around his eyes.

‘And then what?’ he asked. ‘We threaten two powerful wizards and an equally powerful Elf Queen with a flock of ravens and sparrows?’

Bilbo felt so relieved that Thorin was making fun of his silly idea, that he couldn’t help laughing.

‘We will smother them with softness,’ he grinned. 

‘Only you could do that,’ said Thorin. ‘I have never been soft.’

‘Oh, I am sure you were as a baby,’ said Bilbo. ‘I wish I could have held you when you had your down. Like a little bird.’ He had meant it to sound teasing, trying to keep the mood light, but it came out differently. He felt himself blush and turned away. 

‘Better take the reigns before they take us to Andrast,’ he said quickly. Thorin didn’t say anything, but he stayed outside on the seat with Bilbo until it was time to stop for the night.

 

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

 

It was a long road to Lorien. They had veered off the main route to travel around Fangorn Forest at the first possibility. They were lucky it was a dry season, or they would have had trouble with the wagon. Even now, they had to drive shorter distances because it would tire out the ponies too much. 

In the evenings, Thorin often read to Bilbo. Sometimes the hobbit sang quietly, staring into the fire, or he smoked a pipe, while Thorin lay on his back, looking up a the stars. Bilbo thought he had never enjoyed his life as much as he did now.

One evening, Thorin suddenly started to talk. He was lying on his back again, Bilbo had just finished a hobbit travelling song and Carc had returned from a scouting flight, reporting that there was nothing or no one to be seen.

‘I used to roam outside of the mountain all the time,’ Thorin said. ‘Even when I was only a dwarfling. As soon as I found ways to leave the mountain unseen by whoever was supervising me, I was in the woods and fields whenever I could. Of course, later, Master Belin wasn’t too happy when I skipped work, but it was worth the punishment somehow.’

Bilbo didn’t dare ask for fear of shutting Thorin up, but he scowled at the idea of a young Thorin being punished for needing to be outside.

‘That’s where I found Carc, you know. But that was much later.’

Thorin was quiet for a while. Bilbo thought he was done with his story, but then he continued.

‘It’s not very dwarvish, to want to be outside.’

‘Mountains, mines, caves,’ murmured Bilbo.

‘Precisely. I don’t mind living in a mountain or a cave, but I also like to be out in the open. One more thing to make me strange. A Dwarf in the woods.’

Bilbo chuckled. 

‘I like it,’ he said.

‘You would,’ said Thorin, ‘You’re a nature loving hobbit.’ 

‘True,’ Bilbo said. He shuffled closer to Thorin and lay down, pulling his blanket around him. ‘But I also like your gems. Did master Belin teach you about them? Did you work with them?’

‘Yes, I liked gems better than metal and smithing. Gems and silver.’

‘You made jewellery?’

‘Yes. That’s the business I wanted to set up. I had gems to use, but...’ Suddenly Thorin stopped. 

‘What?’

‘Nothing.’

Bilbo rolled over on his side to look at Thorin.

‘You had gems,’ he said slowly. ‘But no money, hence the palantír. Oh Thorin.’

Thorin grumbled.

‘Told you I have never been soft. Without family or status, or even respect, thieving was the only way to get things.’

Bilbo reached over, burying his fingers in the feathers on Thorin’s chest.

‘Will you please never steal again?’ he asked quietly. ‘Or bully people into giving you things?’

‘I...I don’t know if I can promise that,’ said Thorin. ‘If Saruman won’t or can’t turn me back, what do I do?’

‘We’ll figure something out,’ said Bilbo. ‘You’re not alone anymore, you’ve got a friend now.’

It was quite some time later that Thorin spoke again.

‘You too,’ he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story takes place a little earlier than The Hobbit, when, according to information I found, Saruman resided in Orthanc as warden on behalf of Gondor (officially). I thought it would be logical if he had a small garrison of soldiers there as guards.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Little birds, pipe-smoking, talk and Elves.

They had left Fangorn behind after crossing the river Limlight, travelling straight North. The weather was still good, though they had had a little bit of rain the past few days. Today was sunny and dry. Bilbo was looking around for the little flock of small birds that seemed to have been following them for a while now. They never came really close though, staying just within sight.

When they had set up for the night, Bilbo saw them again, dancing in the air.

‘Thorin,’ he shouted to his friend, who was gathering firewood, his cloak flapping about him in the wind. He looked up and came over, arms filled with smallish sticks and twigs.

‘There aren’t enough trees here,’ he said, throwing the wood down. ‘But these will do, at least for tea and hopefully cooking.’

‘Thorin, I would really like to go out for a bit on my own.’

‘What?’ Thorin seemed put out. ‘But...that’s dangerous.’

‘There’s nobody around, Carc has checked.’ Bilbo pointed at the raven, who was sitting on the wagon.

‘But... why?’ Thorin’s hands were flexing. Bilbo smiled at him. He turned around and pointed at the birds.

‘See those small birds? They have been around most of the day, but they won’t approach us. I’d really like to sit with them for a while.’

‘Oh.’ Thorin looked at the birds. ‘Can I come too?’

‘Umm,’ Bilbo hesitated. ‘Look, I don’t think they would ...’

‘Oh, they’re scared of me. Of course.’ Thorin turned around abruptly. ‘I’ll make the fire and start with dinner.’

Bilbo felt a little guilty, but he walked towards the birds and sat down on a small mound still within sight of their little camp. The small flock immediately came fluttering towards him, settling on his arms and knees.

‘Hello my little friends,’ he smiled. They twittered while he stroked their small bodies with his fingers and laughed at their antics. More little birds came from the east and before long, Bilbo was completely surrounded by a cloud of different types of birds. He laughed, a happy laugh of pleasure. Suddenly some of the birds rushed up into the air. Bilbo looked over. Thorin was standing about halfway between him and the wagon, staring at Bilbo and his birds. A small flicker of irritation rose in Bilbo, he had explained why he wanted to be alone, still Thorin had come. Then Thorin raised a wing in a apologetic way and started to turn around. Bilbo sighed.

‘Wait,’ he shouted. ‘Wait just a moment.’ He turned his attention to the birds. ‘Listen,’ he said in his bird-voice. ‘That there is my friend and I think he really wants to meet you. I promise he won’t hurt you.’ 

‘Thorin, drop your cloak and come here slowly!’ He watched as Thorin did what he was told. A number of the birds flew off, but enough remained, though a bit on edge. Bilbo kept talking to them. When Thorin was close, he motioned for him to sit down next to him. The birds were up in the air, they kept flying around them, not leaving. Bilbo tried to talk them down, but they wouldn’t.

‘I’m sorry,’ croaked Thorin softly. ‘I’ll go away.’

‘No,’ said Bilbo, grabbing Thorin’s arm. He was determined now. ‘Here, put your wing around my waist.’ Surprised, Thorin did. ‘And now hold out your other arm. Right.’ Bilbo held out his own arms as well, and called the birds, telling them once again that Thorin was his friend. Hesitantly, one by one, they came. First they sat only on Bilbo’s arms, ready to fly off, but then one of them was bold enough to perch down on Thorin’s wing. He heard Thorin inhale. He turned his head to catch Bilbo’s eyes, a smile of wonder in his own. Then more birds followed and Bilbo found that Thorin’s joy made him even happier than the birds did.

 

After dinner that evening, Bilbo lit his pipe. It was a chilly night, and the fire had died early from lack of wood. 

‘Bilbo,’ said Thorin. ‘You’ll be cold.’ He sat down next to him and enveloped him in his wing and cloak.

‘Hmm, nice,’ said Bilbo, leaning into his friend’s warmth. They sat in an easy silence for a while. Then Bilbo asked a question he had been pondering for quite a while.

'Thorin, who took care of you when you were little?'

He passed Thorin his pipe and waited until he had managed to take a draw. Thorin blew out the smoke slowly.

‘I don’t remember much,’ he said. ‘I lived in the Court’s lower servant’s quarters and they took turns taking care of me. By royal order. Nobody really wanted to.’ He passed the pipe back to Bilbo.

‘Royal order? Why was that?’

‘I was found one morning, outside the schoolroom in the mountain. A small baby wrapped in a simple blanket. It caused quite an uproar when they saw the down. It was taken as a bad omen for the kingdom. There were those who thought I should be left outside to die.’

Bilbo choked on his smoke.

‘You can’t be serious,’ he coughed.

‘Dwarves don’t look kindly on unnatural things,’ Thorin said, patting Bilbo’s back. ‘When the King became ill some time later, they said I had indeed brought a curse. But even from the start most were afraid that any curse would be made worse if they let me die. So the royal family ordered that I was to be taken care of.’

Bilbo leaned back again and they smoked quietly for a while, taking turns.

‘And later?’ asked Bilbo. 

‘Later I was taught to read and write, and put in an apprenticeship with master Bolin. He was the only one willing to take me, because he couldn’t keep any apprentice for his foul temper. I had nowhere to go, so I stayed. Despite everything, he taught me a lot.’

‘And you never found out who your parents were?’

‘No.’

‘Do you want to know?’

‘No.’

‘Fair enough,’ said Bilbo. ‘And what happened when you grew up?’

Thorin didn’t answer for a while, he took his time smoking.

‘I don’t want to talk about that now,’ he said finally. ‘Maybe another time.’

 

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

 

Thorin’s hand curled around Bilbo’s wrist while they were listening to the Elves debating amongst each other in their own language. The hobbit could feel the tension in his friend’s body. Thorin had been very protective when the Elves intercepted them, not allowing any of them near the hobbit. Yet his touch was seeking reassurance as well. Bilbo smiled. He supposed he behaved no different. He liked feeling sheltered and safe with Thorin, yet he would not hesitate to step forth to defend him if needed. And he was quite prepared to face Saruman and Galadriel and Gandalf if it came to that.

The Elf called Haldir turned to them.

‘Our Queen has requested that you be brought to her,’ he announced. ‘You will both be blindfolded, and the bird-creature’s hands will be bound.’

‘Thorin, his name is Thorin. And if you bind him, you will bind me too,’ said Bilbo firmly. The Elf looked at him with friendly amusement.

‘That will not be necessary, master Hobbit.’

‘That’s Baggins if you please, and it is necessary.’ 

Thorin’s squeezed his wrist. 

‘Bilbo,’ he said. Bilbo turned to him.

‘No, it’s not alright. I won’t have you treated like you are dangerous, because you’re not.’ He faced Haldir again.

‘Just tell us if Saruman the White is still here, it is he we want to see, we don’t want to bother your Queen. And you don’t need to bind Thorin’s hands, he will not make any trouble.’

‘As long as you don’t hurt Bilbo,’ grunted Thorin, glaring up at the Elf.

Haldir laughed.

‘You two are quite the pair,’ he said. ‘But we will bring you to our Queen, and since you seem adamant, you will both be bound.’

Bilbo held out his hands, so he could be bound first. Thorin hovered near, scowling, until it was his turn. The Elves were quite gentle, especially with Bilbo, which seemed to placate Thorin a little. After they were blindfolded, they set off. An Elf placed his hand on Bilbo’s shoulder to guide him, and he assumed someone did the same for Thorin. It was quite a long walk. Bilbo lost every sense of time. Unable to see, his hearing took over. He heard the soft thuds of the ponies’ hooves and there seemed to be a lot of birds around. He wondered where Carc had gone.

Finally they stopped, and their blindfolds were removed to reveal a stunning sight. The city of the Elves was built in and around trees. Winding pathways led up to platform-like houses. 

‘Are you alright?’ asked Thorin as soon as he could see Bilbo again. Bilbo smiled while his hands were unbound.

‘I’m fine.’ They weren’t releasing Thorin’s hands and Bilbo was about to protest when a hand pressed his back, urging him up a sloping pathway. Quickly he grabbed Thorin’s arm and pulled him with him. Behind him he heard Elves chuckle. They said something in their language and there was more laughter. Bilbo decided that Elves were rather irritating.

They stepped unto a large flet and were made to wait. Bilbo did not let go of Thorin’s arm.  
And then one of the most beautiful beings he had ever seen came down a broad stairway. Her hair shone like the sun and her dress flowed like water. Her eyes were blue, though, Bilbo thought, not as beautiful as Thorin’s. The Queen curled her lips in an amused smile while her gaze studied the pair in front of her.

‘Release him,’ she said in a soft but authorative voice, pointing at Thorin. As one of the Elves obeyed, Bilbo bowed.

‘Lady Galadriel,’ said Haldir. ‘We bring to you Bilbo Baggins of the Shire, healer. And Thorin.’

Thorin bowed clumsily after Bilbo poked him in the ribs. Again her smile was amused.

‘Welcome, Bilbo Baggins, healer ...’ her eyes looked right through him. ‘... of many things.’

Next her gaze rested on Thorin, her face turned serious.

‘And should I welcome you, Thorin? A Dwarf so lost he even lost his appearance?’

‘It was taken,’ said Bilbo. ‘That is why we are here.’

‘I know why you are here, Bilbo Baggins. But I am not sure that your companion does.’

‘We are seeking Saruman the White, to ask him...’

‘Yes, you want to ask him, but do you want his answer?’ Her eyes were still fixed on Thorin. ‘Look into your heart, Thorin, and see what you want, what you think you deserve.’

‘Mylady, please ...’ Bilbo was interrupted by a less than friendly touch from one of the Elf guards. 

‘Do not speak when you are not spoken to,’ he whispered. Bilbo narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth to speak his mind.

‘Master Baggins.’ He started when the Queen addressed him. ‘Your loyalty to your friend does you credit. However, it is time that he speaks for himself.’ She turned back to Thorin, who seemed unable to utter a single word, crumbling under her scrutiny. Bilbo desperately wanted to help him, but he dared not disobey the Lady.

Thorin still remained quiet, but Queen Galadriel smiled at him, though her eyes seemed sad. 

‘Saruman the White will receive you shortly. You will be brought to him,’ she said at last. She looked at each of them in turn before saying: ‘Be true to your heart.’ Then she turned around and left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah yes, shameless borrowing from LOTR here, with the visit of Lorien, the blindfolds etc. And as in my fic about Gimli and Legolas Galadriel wriggled herself into a role of some import here. I guess it's because she and the wizards are the wise ones in this Tolkien universe. And poor Haldir is on duty again... :-)


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saruman!

Saruman the White was a very tall, very severe wizard. His eyes brushed over Bilbo without much interest before resting on Thorin. His lips curled up minutely.

‘Well well, if it isn’t the Dwarf who couldn’t keep his hands off other people’s belongings,’ he sneered. Bilbo instantly disliked him. He was just about to give the wizard a piece of his mind, when another person stepped forward from the shadows.

‘Bilbo Baggins?’

He saw a scruffy looking old Man, with long grey hair and beard, dressed in a grey cloak.

‘Excuse me, have we met?’

‘Ah, not in many years. Not since you were a small child even. But you are your mother’s son.’

Bilbo frowned. 

‘Do you mind, Gandalf,’ snapped Saruman. ‘My issue is with Thorin, not with this halfling.’

‘Hobbit,’ said Thorin firmly. Both wizards looked at him in mild surprise, Bilbo smiled.

‘Not important,’ said Saruman with a dismissive gesture. ‘Now, I assume you want me to turn you back to your normal form?’

Thorin nodded.

‘Tell me, why would I do that? Tell me why you think you don’t deserve what you have?’

Thorin didn’t say anything. Bilbo stared at him, frowning. Why wasn’t he speaking? Saruman smiled an arrogant, unkind smile.

‘Maybe you think you do deserve it. Isn’t that right?’

Thorin swallowed. Slowly he nodded.

‘Thorin!’ Bilbo couldn’t keep quiet anymore. ‘That’s nonsense, nobody deserves this!’ He looked at the White Wizard. ‘I know what he did and that he deserved some punishment, but over eighty years of this? Can you honestly say he deserves that?’

‘He chose his path himself, and suffered the consequences.’

‘What do you know of his path?’ shouted Bilbo indignantly. ‘You have no idea ...’

‘We all choose our paths,’ said another voice suddenly. The Lady Galadriel glided into the room. She came to stand next to Saruman, looking at Bilbo. ‘You chose your path, master Baggins. It did not involve stealing, did it?’

‘Well, no, but ...’

‘Yet you were an outcast yourself, just like your friend.’

‘It’s not the same,’ Bilbo objected. ‘I had my parents when I was young. And nobody called me an abomination.’ Bilbo’s voice faltered when he said the word.

‘Bilbo’s youth was different from Thorin’s,’ said Gandalf. ‘Bilbo was not rejected by his parents, even if they did not understand the significance.’

Both Saruman and Galadriel threw the Grey Wizard a warning glance.

‘Oh, I think it has gone on long enough, don’t you agree?’ said Gandalf. ‘Clearly Aulë and Yavanna’s plan has come to nothing, seeing as neither of them knows, nor do their people. It’s all rather pointless. We can at least explain.’

‘But is it our place to explain?’ asked Galadriel, her gaze was soft when she saw Bilbo and Thorin’s bewildered faces.

‘I think it is, since we are the only ones living on Arda who know about it. And since it hardly seems a coincidence they found each other, and have now managed to find all three of us in the same place at the same time.’

‘We are not here to discuss this, we are here because this thieving Dwarf thinks his punishment should be over.’ Saruman sounded irritated.

‘Exactly!’ cried Bilbo, fed up with all the mystery. ‘Just turn him back and we’ll not bother you anymore.’

Saruman looked at the hobbit with a smirk.

‘It’s not that simple, Master Hobbit,’ he said. ‘As long as Thorin really thinks he should not be a Dwarf again, I can’t turn him back, even if I wanted to.’

Bilbo looked at Thorin. His friend did not meet his eyes.

‘Thorin?’ he said softly, touching his arm. ‘What is this?’

‘You are such a gentle soul,’ said Galadriel. ‘Thorin is not like you.’

Bilbo turned around swiftly.

‘And what is that supposed to mean?’ he said rudely. ‘I’m tough enough, and of course he’s not like me, he’s a Dwarf. But he can be gentle too.’ Thorin’s wing around his shoulders, Thorin handing him tea, Thorin reading to him under the stars, Thorin with little birds on his arm and joy in his eyes.

Galadriel smiled at him, and so did Gandalf.

‘Why do you not want to be a Dwarf again?’ asked the Queen softly. Thorin straightened his back.

‘I have never been much good as a Dwarf,’ he said.

‘And have you been good as what you are now?’

‘No.’ Thorin hesitated. ‘Not until recently.’

‘Not until ...?’

‘Not until I met Bilbo,’ said Thorin with a clear voice.

Saruman’s mouth twitched.

‘So,’ he said slowly. ‘Having Master Baggins for a friend makes some sort of difference?’

Thorin nodded. 

‘Bilbo seems to think you should be a Dwarf again,’ said Gandalf. ‘Apparently he thinks you have been punished enough.’

‘He doesn’t know me.’

Bilbo’s mouth dropped open.

‘Now that’s just ridiculous! Of course I know you.’ But he had to admit that there was some truth in it. There was still so much he didn’t know about Thorin. Did it really matter?

‘Do you think you know him well enough to say that he will be good as a Dwarf now?’ asked Gandalf.

Bilbo pondered on this for a moment.

‘Yes,’ he said then. Thorin would probably never be an easy person, but that was alright, it didn’t mean he was a bad one. And Bilbo would help him make the best choices he could. Saruman stared at the hobbit, obviously thinking. Then he smiled cunningly.

‘I have a proposition,’ he said. ‘Since you believe in Thorin, you will responsible.’

Bilbo frowned, Thorin’s head had come up, looking at the White Wizard.

‘I can turn Thorin back into a Dwarf based on your belief that he deserves to be. But the moment he commits another transgression, stealing or hurting people, you will be the one turned into a bird. Do you agree to this?’

‘Yes,’ said Bilbo immediately.

‘No!’ exclaimed Thorin at the same time.

‘What’s this? You don’t even trust your friend’s belief in you? You don’t trust yourself to keep to the right path, even if he does?’ Saruman asked.

‘He would, he always believes the best of others.’

‘Does he?’ asked Galadriel’s soft voice.

‘Yes,’ said Thorin. ‘Because he’s the kindest, purest soul I have ever met. He never condemned me even though he saw first-hand some of the things I have done. He is willing to be my friend even though I am who I am. And I will not run even the slightest risk that he will ever have to be like this, like I am now. So I absolutely refuse to be changed back.’

Bilbo turned to Thorin, grabbing his arms.

‘Thorin, this is ridiculous. I know it will be alright...’

‘No! You don’t know that. I have never been good, I don’t even know how to. I’ve always been a thief and a bully.’ He pulled his arms free from Bilbo’s grip, took his hand and turned around. ‘We are leaving now.’

‘Stop.’ Two voices rang out at the same time. Gandalf and Galadriel looked at each other with a faint smile, then they turned to face Saruman. The White Wizard’s eyes narrowed, Galadriel’s eyebrow turned up and Gandalf’s brow wrinkled. After this silent communication Saruman sighed.

‘Very well,’ he said. ‘I suppose you are right.’ And to Thorin: ‘Stay still.’

Bilbo saw Thorin’s eyes grow huge as he staggered backwards, winged arm raised as if to ward off an attack.

‘Don’t,’ he said.

‘Step away from him, master Baggins,’ said Saruman, ignoring Thorin. But Thorin clasped Bilbo’s hand in his.

‘Don’t,’ he said again. ‘I don’t want it.’

Bilbo squeezed his hand, then pulled himself free.

‘It will be alright,’ he said, stepping away. 

Thorin stood frozen, fear in his eyes, while Saruman began to chant strange words, making intricate movements with his hands. Thorin raised his wings and hid behind them, something he hadn’t done in weeks. Bilbo watched as his friend’s form seemed to shimmer. Slowly the black feathers withered, arms and legs grew thicker, beak retracting. But the blue eyes stayed the same, and the fear was still there when the transformation was complete and he lowered his arms in resignation. 

Bilbo stared at the Dwarf in front of him, clad in the same ragged trousers, now quite tight, his broad chest dusted with swirls of black hair instead of feathers. He had thick muscular arms, long dark hair, a short beard and a rather pointy nose.

‘Look at you,’ Bilbo whispered. Thorin was absolutely beautiful and Bilbo couldn’t take his eyes off him. A soft cough reminded him where he was. A deep blush crept up his cheeks. Gandalf and Galadriel were observing him with fond amusement on their faces, while Saruman just looked vaguely irritated.

‘Well, if that was all,’ the wizard said. 

Bilbo swallowed. Thorin looked very lost. 

‘Thank you,’ Bilbo said absentmindedly, taking the few steps that separated him from Thorin and pulling him into a hug that felt different now. No more soft feathers and wings, but hard muscle and strong arms. Bilbo found he liked this just as much, even though the air was nearly crushed out of his lungs when Thorin hugged back.

Then he felt a light touch on his shoulder.

‘Come with me,’ said Gandalf. ‘You can rest and have something to eat. And I want to talk to you.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh...and there’s Dwarf!Thorin. Ah, so handsome! 
> 
> And, since I can't resist Thorin, have some pictures of how I imagine he would have looked immediately after having been turned back: 
> 
> https://i2.wp.com/collarcitybrownstone.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/07/Pinterest-3.jpg?resize=500%2C371 (only no Balin of course, no silver threads yet, and umm, no shirt :-) )
> 
> http://thearkenstone-ck.tumblr.com/post/83721291671/thorin-oakenshield


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Surprising explanations, and fluff...

The wizard took them to a smaller room, where they found fruit and tea and large cushions to sit on. Thorin hadn’t said a word, keeping very close to Bilbo. Suddenly he looked up to Gandalf.

‘He didn’t ... Saruman didn’t curse Bilbo to turn into a bird, did he?’ His voice trembled. ‘If I do something wrong?’

Gandalf smiled.

‘No, he didn’t. You redeemed yourself, Thorin. By being honest about yourself, and by putting Bilbo before your own good.’

Thorin exhaled. A tentative smile formed around his lips. Bilbo looked at him and marvelled in the fact that he could actually smile now. He handed Thorin an apple.

‘What will you do now?’ asked Gandalf, who had sat down. Bilbo felt Thorin stiffen next to him. He frowned.

‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘We haven’t really thought that far.’ He ate a few strawberries, thinking. His eyes strayed to Thorin’s hand, which was clutching aimlessly at the cloth of his trousers. An idea came to him.

‘I know!’ he exclaimed. Eyes bright, he turned to Thorin. ‘You can make jewellery again, and we will travel around, selling your jewellery, and me offering my services as a healer of course. I hope the wagon will still be where we hid it, but if not, we will buy a new one.’ 

Thorin was looking at him with wide eyes and an open mouth. 

‘What?’ he said. His heart sank, suddenly afraid that Thorin wouldn’t want to keep travelling with him. 

‘You... you are not abandoning me?’ Thorin said, barely audible.

‘Aband... what in Eru’s name are you talking about? Why would I abandon you?’ Bilbo frowned. Sometimes it was hard to follow Thorin’s thinking.

‘You were helping me find Saruman,’ said Thorin, as if that explained everything. Bilbo stared at him, still not comprehending.

‘You help people, Bilbo,’ said Gandalf. ‘And then you travel on.’

‘But I...’ Suddenly it dawned upon Bilbo. ‘Oh. Oh, no, Thorin! You are not my patient, you’re my friend. I’ve never been happier than travelling with you and I really want you to come with me... unless you don’t want to.’

‘Of course I want to come!’ Thorin blurted. ‘Are you sure?’

Bilbo smiled at him.

‘Of course I’m sure,’ he said. And then Thorin smiled, really smiled. A big, bright smile on his lips and in his eyes. And Bilbo wanted to hug him, hug him and kiss him. Oh Eru, he wanted to kiss those lips. Well, yes, better not, Thorin would probably jump out of his skin. Or whack him. Bilbo sighed. Maybe one day.

‘Bilbo?’ Gandalf was speaking to him, wrinkles in the corners of his eyes. 

‘Yes, Gandalf?’

‘I need to speak to you, to both of you. You know who I am?’

‘Yes, my mother told me about you. You did fireworks.’

Gandalf laughed.

‘Trust Hobbits to remember only that about a wizard,’ he chuckled. ‘Belladonna was a fine lady, Bilbo, I was sorry to hear about her passing, and your father’s. They were too young.’

‘That they were,’ said Bilbo, feeling a pang of sadness. Without thinking he scooted closer to Thorin and leaned into him.

‘Both your parents were special, Bilbo. What I am about to tell you might shock you. Has Thorin told you about his... birth?’

‘I know nothing about my birth, other than how I looked when I was found,’ said Thorin’s deep voice, without the screechy edge now, realized Bilbo. ‘Covered in down. And yes, I told Bilbo.’

Gandalf nodded. He looked very serious.

‘You were the same, Bilbo,’ he said.

In the silence that followed, Bilbo heard the chatter of Elves some distance away, the quiet song of a bird, a bit of music. Thorin was squeezing his hand so hard that it hurt, but Bilbo didn’t say anything. Somehow it felt good, like an anchor.

When Bilbo nor Thorin spoke, Gandalf said:

‘You were born, covered in light grey down. It fell out after a few weeks, just like Thorin’s.’

‘But I never knew that,’ whispered Bilbo, dumbfounded. ‘Nobody ever told me.’

‘Nobody knew, just your parents. They made up a story that you were sickly and held off visitors at first, until you looked normal. I think Belladonna was planning on telling you when you came of age. They didn’t want anybody to know, fearing that they might shun you.’

‘Oh.’ Suddenly tears filled Bilbo’s eyes. Love for his parents overwhelmed him. They had known, and they had loved and protected him.

‘They did not, however, understand what it meant,’ said Gandalf.

‘What does it mean?’ asked Thorin hoarsely. 

‘Long, long ago, among all the peoples of Middle-earth occasionally individuals were born with a special connection to nature. They were a bridge between their people and certain types of animals. They brought forth a unity, a harmony between species, and they were revered among their people. They were recognized at birth by being covered in the feathers or fur of the animal species they were connected to. Over the ages, less and less of these special individuals were born, until they were forgotten in the depths of history.

‘Some time ago, Aulë and Yavanna decided that these connecting individuals were needed once again, and they created one among each species. The Elf lives here in Lothlorien, she connects with deer. The Human, who connected to wolves, lived in Gondor and sadly died as a young adult. And, well, you will have guessed that you two are the Hobbit and Dwarf individuals, both connecting to birds, though different kinds.’

Bilbo was glad he was sitting down, propped up against Thorin, or he was sure he would have fallen over, he felt light in the head. Apparently Thorin noticed, for he let go of Bilbo’s hand and put his arm around his shoulder instead. He pulled the Hobbit close. Bilbo looked at Gandalf.

‘But why didn’t we know what it meant?’ he asked. ‘What is the use if we don’t?’

‘Ah,’ Gandalf looked apologetic. ‘I am afraid the Valar misjudged the knowledge still retained in your races. The Elves did recognize the significance, the Man was judged special, though his people didn’t know what it meant. Bilbo was deemed a bit too strange by his order-loving kin, and Thorin, well, Thorin...’ 

Bilbo shot upright.

‘They should have done something about that! Why didn’t they leave clues? Pointed to ancient texts or something? Why did they allow it all?’ Suddenly a sob escaped him. His own loving parents and Thorin’s harsh youth made for an almost unbearable contrast in his mind. Thorin’s arms enveloped him and he found himself clinging to the very person he wanted to comfort, tears on his face.

‘Bilbo, please don’t cry. Bilbo, it’s alright.’ He felt Thorin’s hand on his head, shyly caressing his curls. Bilbo took a deep breath, looking up at him.

‘Yes, it is alright now,’ he said in a slightly shaky voice. ‘I will make sure that it’s alright.’ He couldn’t help himself, he raised a hand and trailed a slow finger over the line of Thorin’s jaw. Those beautiful sapphire eyes. There was something in them he couldn’t define.

‘Bilbo? If Saruman had not been willing, if I had remained who I was...’ Thorin hesitated. Bilbo just kept looking at him. ‘Would you still have taken me with you?’

Bilbo’s answer was immediate and decisive.

‘Yes.’ 

Thorin rested his forehead against Bilbo’s. He sighed deeply. They held on to each other until they were disturbed by a soft cough. They saw that Gandalf was no longer in the room, but an Elf had entered. Bilbo thought he recognized her as one of the Elves that had intercepted them in the woods.

‘My Lady Galadriel has sent me,’ she said. ‘I am to show you a room where you can sleep. We will also bring you some food, a bit more hearty for Master Thorin.’

They followed her over the pathways of the Elven city. Every Elf they encountered stared at them and many talked quietly among themselves, throwing them glances. At least it could not have anything to do with how Thorin looked anymore, thought Bilbo. Maybe they just didn’t receive many visitors of other species. 

Finally they reached a small room, very simply furnished with a bed, two chairs and a small table. The Elf showed them in, pointing at the tray on the table.

‘There’s a hot meal for you, and some more fruit and water,’ she said.

‘Thank you,’ said Thorin earnestly.

‘You are welcome,’ said the Elf. She was about to leave, when she turned to Thorin again.

‘You are very lucky to have won the love of someone like Master Baggins,’ she said. ‘I trust you will make sure to be worthy of him.’ Her words were stern, but her voice friendly. Then she was gone.

Bilbo didn’t know where to look, he felt sure his face was bright red. He pulled his hand from Thorin’s and went to the table.

‘Oh, it’s some sort of stew,’ he said, trying to sound normal. ‘It has been a long time since we had a hot meal, we better eat it before it cools down.’ He picked up one of the plates and turned around with the intention of handing it to Thorin, when he noticed that Thorin was still standing where he had left him. He was staring at Bilbo, eyes wide like a startled rabbit.

‘L..love?’ he stammered. ‘Surely she is mistaken?’

Bilbo opened his mouth to reassure him, to deny his feelings to save them both embarrassment, but then he realised he could not lie to his friend. Not to Thorin. He shook his head.

‘She is not mistaken,’ he said.

Thorin looked almost miserable.

‘But you shouldn’t,’ he said. Bilbo put down the plate and went to Thorin.

‘It’s not something you can stop,’ he said kindly, looking up.

‘But I know nothing of it, I don’t even know how to be your friend.’

‘It doesn’t matter, Thorin,’ Bilbo said, rubbing his hand over Thorin’s arm. ‘It’s alright. Maybe you don’t know about being a friend, but you are doing it all the same.’

‘I am?’

Bilbo sat him down on the bed and talked about taking care of each other, about sharing things, about making tea, about sitting on the wagon without talking, about defending and comforting each other, about looking at the stars together, about singing a song and reading by the fire. The longer he spoke, the more relaxed Thorin became.

‘So that is being a friend?’ he asked, an almost-smile on his handsome face. ‘And you like me being your friend like this?’

‘Yes,’ said Bilbo. He looked at Thorin, wondering how and when he had come to love him so much. He heard the Dwarf’s breath hitch and knew he had probably revealed too much in his gaze. Thorin’s hand reached out, but he hesitated and let it drop into his lap. There was a long silence.

‘And ... love?’ asked Thorin finally. Bilbo didn’t know how to answer that. He fiddled with the hem of his waistcoat, looking down. Suddenly a hand covered his.

‘Wanting to be always near you, to look at you, to hold your hand, to touch your hair, to hear you sing just for me? Sheltering you in my wings, wanting to protect you from everything and everyone? Longing for...I don’t know...’ Thorin inhaled deeply. ‘Just longing....’

Bilbo looked up at him.

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘That, and much more.’ He laid his hand on Thorin’s cheek, caressing his bearded chin with his thumb. Moving that thumb up to ghost over lips. Thorin looked at him intensely.

‘Bilbo,’ he breathed. 

Then Bilbo took Thorin’s face between his hands, pulled him down softly and touched their lips together. Very lightly, like a feather. Thorin’s hands came up, covered Bilbo’s. Again Bilbo brought his lips to Thorin’s, a little firmer, lingering. Thorin moved with him when he withdrew, trying to keep contact.

‘You like that?’ Bilbo smiled against his mouth.

‘Yes,’ whispered Thorin. He moved his hands to Bilbo’s face. Bilbo kissed him again, and again, each time harder, deeper and longer, until they were both flustered and breathless. Bilbo leaned his forehead against Thorin’s.

‘We should eat,’ he said with a sigh.

‘Yes,’ answered Thorin, but instead he kissed Bilbo again and it was loving and open-mouthed, and so very intense that Bilbo lost all other thoughts until they had to part for air. Panting they stared into each other’s eyes until Thorin’s stomach grumbled loudly. Thorin blushed, but Bilbo chuckled.

‘Dinner,’ he said with a happy grin, taking his Dwarf by the hand and dragging him to the table.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah. Did you see that coming? No, not the kissing - duh - that other stuff!


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wrapping up for a happy ending :-)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now with actual, beautiful fanart! by akahime4 : http://archiveofourown.org/works/1715711  
> Check it out!
> 
> I edited the Epilogue, it's from Thorin's POV now, something that's been niggling at me since I finished it.

Bilbo slowly opened his eyes. A warm body was pressed against him, snugly fitted in his arms. He looked down on a mass of tangled black hair and remembered. A handsome Dwarf, hugs and kisses. A wave of happiness surged through him. He tightened his embrace, pressing his lips to Thorin’s head.

‘Good morning, Bilbo,’ said a voice in the room. 

‘Eru!’ cried Bilbo. Thorin jolted awake, sitting up and immediately moving in front of Bilbo. Gandalf, who was sitting on one of the chairs by the table, chuckled.

‘Admirable, Thorin,’ he said, grinning. ‘I have no fear that you will protect your dear Bilbo at all times.’

‘You may be sure of it,’ grunted Thorin. ‘Why are you here?’

‘I still have to answer the question you asked yesterday before I left you two alone.’ Gandalf winked and Bilbo blushed. ‘You are right, everything has turned out rather useless. You two aren’t even living with your own people. Or do you intend to return to Erebor?’

Thorin looked as if the wizard had lost his mind.

‘Of course not,’ he said. ‘I’m going with Bilbo.’

‘So you are going through with your plan?’

Thorin looked at Bilbo, who had pushed him aside gently so he could see Gandalf.

‘Of course,’ said the hobbit. ‘We will travel together like I said, and maybe one day we will find a place where we’d want to stay. But you haven’t answered my question: why did Aulë allow Thorin to be treated so horribly?’

‘The Valar generally don’t want to interfere with life on Arda. They can set things in motion, but life has to run its course. It is like the Lady Galadriel said: everybody makes their choice. You did, and Thorin did.’ His eyes rested on Thorin, not unfriendly. ‘And it is never too late to make a different choice.’

Thorin frowned at that. He cast Bilbo a glance.

‘But what would it change? Everything still happened. I’m still who I am.’

‘It would change the future,’ said Gandalf.

Bilbo watched Thorin struggle with the idea. 

‘The future is already changed, isn’t it?’ said Thorin hesitantly. His eyes sought Bilbo’s. ‘Because you came and made everything better.’

‘It’s not my doing, love,’ said Bilbo. ‘You chose. I never demanded that you’d change, did I?’ Suddenly he worried that he had pushed Thorin after all.

‘No,’ Thorin shook his head, eyes still on Bilbo. ‘You were just there, being my friend even when I didn’t know what to do.’

‘Hiding behind your wings,’ smiled Bilbo. Thorin was staring at Bilbo now like there was nothing else in the world.

‘You are so beautiful,’ he said quietly. ‘I still can’t believe...’ 

‘Oh now, hush.’ Bilbo put his arms around Thorin’s neck and held him close. ‘I love you, you silly Dwarf.’ 

Strong arms closed gently around him.

‘I love you too,’ The rumbling whisper against his ear send a shiver down Bilbo’s spine.

Gandalf cleared his throat.

‘I am very happy for you two,’ he said dryly, ‘But I have to go soon. Any more questions?’

It took Bilbo a moment to gather his thoughts.

‘Oh, yes,’ he said. ‘Are we supposed to do anything with our gifts then? Or can we just go about our life?’

‘That’s completely up to you. Do whatever you want.’

Gandalf stood, ready to leave, when Bilbo thought of something.

‘Oh, I almost forgot. Do you think I could ask the Elves about their healing techniques? I have always wanted to learn from them.’

Gandalf smiled. 

‘I am quite certain they would be willing to help you. Just ask.’ He turned in the doorway. ‘Oh, and there is a Westron speaking raven having breakfast with the King and Queen. I assume he’s with you?’

 

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Epilogue - 25 years later.

 

‘I can’t believe I’ve let you talk me into this,’ said Bilbo again. Thorin laughed softly, he had never seen Bilbo so ill at ease.

‘That’s the fortieth time you’ve said that since Bree,’ he said. ‘Anyone would think you’re nervous.’ 

Bilbo glared at him.

‘Says the Dwarf who refuses to even go near Dale.’

Thorin shrugged.

‘I have never wanted to go near Erebor again, but you have been talking about the Shire a lot lately, ever since we left Rivendell.’ He had been wondering about that.

‘I must have been tired or something,’ said Bilbo.

Thorin looked at Bilbo. 

‘It was your own idea to visit here,’ he said patiently. ‘If we are going to consider staying in Staddle, like they asked us to, you need to ‘make your peace with the Shire’. Your words, my dear.’

Bilbo huffed. 

‘Then let’s just not stay in Staddle. Do you need to stay in Staddle?’ 

‘I will stay wherever you are, you know that.’ 

Bilbo’s expression softened.

‘Except Erebor,’ he quipped.

‘Except Erebor,’ said Thorin, rolling his eyes. ‘But I think Staddle would suit you, would suit us both. At least for a long while, if not for good. You will have both Men and hobbits to treat, I can sell my jewellery in Breeland and the Shire, the Blue Mountains are within reasonable travelling distance and so is Rivendell.’ He had a feeling that it would be good for Bilbo to stay in Eriador. Maybe they could even stay here for the rest of their lives. Thorin wouldn’t be against it, it would be good to belong somewhere. For both of them.

‘I don’t know, they may not even remember me.’ Bilbo ran his hands through his now slightly greying curls.

Thorin threw him an incredulous look. Bilbo scowled back at him.

‘Or they may remember me all too well.’

‘That’s more likely.’ Thorin grinned and looked at his hobbit with a fond smile.

‘What?’ Bilbo tugged on his hair. ‘Are you making fun of me?’

‘Just a little,’ laughed Thorin. Bilbo looked at him, trying to frown, but he could never be angry at the sight of a laughing Thorin. The Dwarf let go of the reigns to hug Bilbo with one arm. 

‘You’ll show them,’ he said. ‘They will be sorry they ever let you go.’ And as an afterthought, pressing Bilbo closer: ‘They’re not getting you back though.’

‘There, there it is,’ said Bilbo, pointing at a round green door in the side of a tall hill.

Thorin halted the wagon in front of what must be Bag End. Bilbo didn’t get off, he just looked at the smial that had been his home when he was young. For once Thorin wasn’t sure what he was thinking. Suddenly the door opened and a young hobbit lady with a small child on her arm came out.

‘What do you want?’ she asked, rather snippily. She eyed Thorin suspiciously. ‘Is that a Dwarf?’

Bilbo just frowned at her.

‘Who are you?’ he asked. ‘I thought Longo Baggins lived here.’

‘He died two months ago,’ she answered. ‘How come you don’t know that? Are you from Buckland or something?’

Bilbo uttered an uncharacteristically strained laugh. Thorin watched him with concern. It really wasn’t like him to be so tense and Thorin wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

‘Not exactly,’ Bilbo said. ‘Are you his daughter?’

‘Daughter-in-law,’ she said. ‘Lobelia Sackville-Baggins.’

‘Oh, that’s right, he had a son back then.’

‘Who are you?’ asked Lobelia, giving him a hard look.

Bilbo hesitated. Then he turned away from her. 

‘Let’s go back, Thorin, I’ve seen what I wanted here.’

‘Don’t you want to see inside?’ asked Thorin quietly. ‘Just ask her.’ He wasn’t about to let Bilbo fly now that they had come so far.

‘No, I don’t think so,’ said Bilbo stubbornly.

‘Bilbo, really...’

‘Bilbo? Not Bilbo Bággins?’ Lobelia said loudly, surprised and disapproving. At that moment two male hobbits came trotting towards them.

‘What is going on, Lobelia?’ asked one of them.

‘Otho, Hamfast, this hobbit’s called Bilbo.’ The other hobbits looked at him in surprise.

‘Bilbo Baggins?’ exclaimed one of them. ‘The one from the stories, with the birds?’

‘Come on,’ whispered Thorin. ‘Just get it over with, we didn’t come all this way for nothing.’ He jumped off the wagon and took Bilbo’s hand to help him down. Together they looked at the three younger hobbits. Bilbo took a breath and said:

‘Yes, I am Bilbo Baggins, and this is...’ 

Suddenly Thorin wanted to make something very clear, and he interrupted Bilbo before he could say anything else.

‘Thorin Baggins,’ he said, moving even closer to Bilbo. Three mouths dropped open, and he felt Bilbo relax, tension draining from him. He grinned at Thorin, a wonderfully happy grin that split his face and made Thorin’s heart jump.

‘That’s right,’ Bilbo said in a much firmer voice. Demonstratively he slipped his arm through Thorin’s, pressed him tight, and added: ‘We’ve come for a visit.’

============================================

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That’s it! I have thought and rethought this final chapter, at first I wasn’t going to go for the fluffy marriage stuff, and then when I did it became too soppy, until I decided on doing it this way. Somehow it felt so right to have Thorin really _belong_ , so I had him take Bilbo’s family name, since he’d never had one of his own. Maybe I’m sentimental, but then that’s probably why I write these stories anyway. :-)
> 
> Staddle is a village near Bree. When I finally decided I’d like to end with Bilbo and Thorin visiting the Shire – Bilbo has to have a chance to show off Thorin, hasn’t he? - I searched all the maps of Middle-earth on the internet and in my LOTR edition to find them a suitable village to stay, and chose Staddle. I feel that Bilbo would eventually feel more at home in the gentler landscapes of Eriador than in the vast, wild lands of Gondor or Rohan, while Thorin wants to stay away from Erebor and probably the Iron Hills as well. Turns out Tolkien has left us with a lot of land without any named settlements!
> 
> To be clear: they never tried to find out who Thorin’s parents were. If you like, you can imagine it was the king and queen, but it might just as well have been someone else. This is an alternate reality after all. And for no one noticing someone being pregnant and then not having a baby, in my mind Dwarf women hardly show a pregnancy, and if they wanted to keep it a secret, that wouldn’t have been too difficult. Maybe especially so if it was either the queen in her protected surroundings, or a very lowly person nobody cares about. Imagine what you want :-)
> 
> Look what I found! http://media-cache-ec0.pinimg.com/originals/9c/33/5f/9c335f727176599945609a270478eb55.jpg
> 
> And as for what Bilbo would look like with the little birds, I imagine something like this, just subsitute birds for the butterflies : http://romantic-dystopia.tumblr.com/post/73294648161/2014-film-diary-the-hobbit-the-desolation-of
> 
> If anyone would ever be interested to make art for this fic I would be over the moon :-)
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you all for reading and commenting! I hope you enjoyed the story.

**Author's Note:**

> .


End file.
